The Will to Kill
by Sinshana
Summary: Anchored by the tragedies of his past, Brick is given the job of a spy assassin, but his only ambition in murder is to be united with his brothers in avenging his parents. However, this is hindered by the one goal standing in his way: Blossom.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: After his parent's death, Brick takes refuge in an alley where a man who gives him a job as a 'spy' finds him

**Summary: **After his parent's death, Brick is found in an alley where a man who gives him a job as a spy assassin. He willingly agrees, hoping that he will soon find his lost brothers and the murderers who killed his parents. And while on a mission, Brick finally finds his brothers… the murderers… and the mission of killing a girl whom he dislikes, but can't seem to kill. Her name? Blossom.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own PPG or this plot. I just read a story wherein _Blossom _is the assassin, so I turned it around and twisted it.

**A/N: **Author is currently sobbing over on how to add a downloaded clip to Window's Movie Maker. Tell her how, otherwise COME BACK LATER!

**Chapter 1:**

Brick's POV

"Please. Spare me," the man croaked, struggling to control his heavy breathing. I did not arch a single muscle from my position. The gun was pointed at the man's forehead, and an unreadable expression was plastered on my face. The man took this advantage to persuade me more.

Reaching into his gray suit's pocket, the man pulled out a thick wad of paper money. He smirked at me, but beads of sweat continued to run down his face. His armpits were sweating, and frankly, I found it had a foul smell. The looks of it only made him look pathetic, but he didn't seem to know that I knew this fact. People keep telling me to show emotion more, but I find that a waste of time.

"Here," he said, flapping the money about my face. It irritated me, but I kept still. "If you don't kill me, I'll pay you much more than those jerks do at that putrid company of yours."

One swift movement, and the sound _BANG, _echoed through the silent city night. I gave the little pistol a bit of a spin, then tucked it into my pocket. Some of those other guys wear black tight suits and tuck guns into their belts, but I hate tight clothing. _One_ reason is the fact that I am very skinny.

I left his body soaking up in a pool of blood and stepped out of the alley. What would find his decaying body this time? Bugs, rats or the police? I snorted at the last choice. They never had a good job of doing anything. A man could get brutally killed these days right in their office right in front of them, and the stupid, four-stomach-layered dumbasses would still be sitting on the desk, munching on a doughnut before hobbling over to the body, wracking their short memory spanned heads for the killer. Then they'd completely forget what the killer had looked like.

I shot a quick look over my shoulder to check and stopped at the sight. It was a bony cat this time, inspecting, sniffing and maybe even tasting the body but I wasn't looking at it. I was looking at the alley.

How long has it been? I was six when Mojo (he's a human in this story) found me in the alley, so it must be around seven years. I don't know how old I am. The guys at the corp. wont give a damn about my age (I started killing so young, what do you think?!) or the importance of my birthday. Nor did I, either. But it would be nice with my family, my brothers and I all crowded around a birthday cake…

I shook the thought out of my mind and pulled my cap low over my head as I continued walking. Where were my brothers now? Probably kidnapped, tortured and enslaved by those who had killed my parents. They were going to pay soon, and as soon as possible. I didn't know when. I waited seven years to enhance the skills I never knew I had, so I guess I'm slightly grateful for Mojo finding me, even though he can be a real gorilla at times. (XD)

I looked up and blinked my half-lidded eyes. I've arrived at the building.

My steps echoed through the hallway. The place was disguised as an insurance company on renovation. When it wasn't, there would sometimes be a guy coming in with some special deal. We would usually accept, kill him, and take the money. It was a dull routine, to say the least.

"Oh! Brick! You're—"

"Not in the mood." I cut her off with a four, blunt words, and her face dropped. Her face flushed as she continued organizing the list of death sentences. It was Keane, a raven-haired woman who worked as a secretary here. She used to be some kindergarten teacher before she quit to join this corporation. I had no idea why such a gentle (not a compliment, NOT) and flimsy woman had come to join this assassination corp. Perhaps she was forced or threatened. Or maybe it was her reasons and was accidentally accepted. She must be pretty regretful. And despite her name, she wasn't too keen (lame joke). I continued on my way, hands securely in my pockets when she called out again.

"Oh! Mr.—Mr. Brick, sir!"

I abruptly turned and looked at her sharply. She blushed from the roots of her raven, chin-length hair. "What?" I snapped crudely. Keane had a knack for forgetting things. Must be the nerves. I had no idea why the corp. hadn't killed her yet (literally).

"I… um… he… the boss wants you in his office." She fumbled with her papers and held out one she had clearly creased. "Um, here."

I took the paper from her in a quick movement, and without lifting my head, asked her, "Did you read this paper?"

She blinked and her cheeks turned an exceedingly light shade of pink. "Um… no. Should I? I wasn't told…"

"No," I said quickly and straight out. Then without another word, continued down the hall with the paper in my hand. It read:

Please come to my office immediately. An urgent mission for you is at hand.

_**And by the way, Keene is no longer useful to this company. She will be given a death sentence. It is at the bottom of this letter. Make sure she didn't and **__**doesn't**__** read it. **_

Boss

I crumpled the paper in a ball and tucked it into my pocket. Then I looked up and immediately knew that I had arrived. Without bothering to knock, I swung the door open.

"Brick, my boy," said the boss, facing the window. The back of his chair was the only thing I could see. He thinks that this act is cool sometimes. "Come in, come in. Take a seat."

I sat calmly on the chair in front of his desk. It was the seat I would always take when he called me in. He hasn't been calling me in for a while, and having to take 'orders' from Keane didn't make me very happy. But I don't care that much. Nothing would make me happy until I am reunited with my brothers in avenging my father and mother's death.

"Brick, how are you?" he asked calmly.

"Nonchalant," I replied coldly. He laughed.

"Brick, Brick, Brick… you should show emotion more."

It was one of those again. I get them all the time, but unlike all the others, I did not reply. I knew better than to contradict my boss. He had some temper. But that doesn't mean that I'm frightened of him. In fact, I don't like him at all, but I want to keep my job.

After several seconds, he spoke again. "Oh well, it helps slightly in your missions, I presume? …Nevertheless… I'm betting that you are eager to find out what your new mission is?"

I nodded heartily and he spoke again. "Well, it's like this… you'll be pretending to become an sentinel for Mr. Utonium… he wants protection for his daughters you see…" At this point, I could tell that he smirked. "But it turns out that you're the exact thing that they want protection from…"

I nodded understandingly, not asking for an explanation. Sometimes the boss would get someone killed just because that person insulted him. So here you can see why I have declared that he is a short-tempered person.

"A man will come by here," the boss continued, "and he'll take you to their mansion. The Utoniums are pretty wealthy. Just imagine, three bodyguards…"

I raised my left eyebrow. Three bodyguards? Was boss using three assassins for this mission? I usually worked alone… and I wanted to keep it that way.

"He has three daughters," the boss said. He had a thing about pausing at times. I have a feeling he knows that I'm thinking. "Each with her own guard; all from different companies. I don't know about those other guards, so this may be your most difficult mission yet…" I snorted silently at that. "…You'd have to kill everyone who gets in your way. Kill all witnesses. Watch out for hidden cameras…"

I nodded as he spoke. I knew all those things.

When I was finally able to leave his office, I walked back down the hall and reached into my pocket for the paper.

Make sure she didn't and doesn't read it.

I crumpled it up again, but this time, kept it securely in my fist. Keane was still sitting timidly on her desk, organizing the papers. I stopped in front of her desk and waited for her to notice me. When she did, she nearly fell off her chair. "B-Brick—sir," she stuttered. "How…how can I be any of service to you?"

She had asked a dopey question. It might have been her last words. But I made sure it wasn't. Opening my fist, I gave her the paper. "Read it," I said plainly.

She nervously picked up the creased paper from my hands and held it up to read it, as if it were a bomb ready to go off any second. When she had finished, her eyes widened and the paper dropped from her hands, glided to the desk, and onto the floor. Her jaw twitched, and she looked up at me. I wore a bored expression.

Keane stood up, causing many papers to fall to the floor. Her blue eyes were watery and she struggled to smile. "Well… this is it," she said. "I thought this might happen… he always gave me those looks, tiny hints and deathly words… it was frightening…" She closed her eyes. "I had my reasons for coming here, but it just wasn't… I quit teaching little children, what I loved to do for that reason…" she opened her eyes. The quaky smile remained on her face as she looked at me. "Well… bye, Brick. You may kill me now." She closed her eyes and waited willingly for a blow at her heart. But it didn't come.

She opened her eyes slightly, expectantly. "Um…?"

"Go."

"Huh? What…?"

"I said go," I repeated. "Leave town and go back to being a teacher. Never come back."

Her eyes were wide open by now. "Brick… why are you…?"

"Don't you want to go back to doing the things you love?" I said. "No one will look for you. Now go. Get the hell out of here. If you come back, I'm going to really kill you. Now leave."

Keane smiled. "Thank you, Brick," she said. She turned to climb out the window. I watched her leave before turning in. That might've been the last I ever saw of her.

But I soon found out it wasn't.

-

It was the death of dawn. I stifled a yawn as boss spoke with the man who I assumed to be the one taking me to the mansion. He had raven hair and green eyes. He wore an indifferent look on his face as he talked. I continued to examine him until the boss pointed at me. The man followed his gaze.

"He may look young," said the boss, "but he's one of my best men. I'm sure that you will accept him…" He turned to me. "Brick, this is Butch Johns. He is also one of the bodyguards, and he'll be taking you to the Utoniums' mansion." When Butch turned to look at me more intently, the boss shot me a malicious smile, saying, 'He may end up dead.' I nodded at him.

"So, should we be going now?" Butch asked me calmly. I nodded colorlessly and followed him out the door. Boss watched me leave.

I tried not to look at Butch as he and I walked down the hall. His name sounded slightly familiar. Silence stretched between us for a long while until he said something without looking at me. "Tell me the truth. You're still an adolescent, too, aren't you?"  
One word. If one word of his sentence were not included, then I would not have answered what I did. And that word was 'too', meaning that he had something to hide as well. "Yes."

Butch smirked and chuckled very lightly. "So am I. It seems that all three of us are a bunch of kids looking after girls against killers. But we aren't underestimated. And we have great abilities to prove that fact as well."

I nodded.

"So is there a secretary around here?" Butch asked, looking around.

"She got fired yesterday," I replied casually and convincingly. "We're still looking for a new one."

"Oh," Butch said.

When we arrived, a limousine was waiting before us. I was unimpressed. Butch didn't expect me to. It was almost like he knew all about me. Butch climbed onto the driver's seat.

"They let you drive?" I asked neutrally.

"They think I'm eighteen," he replied. "Lucky we're slightly mature-looking for our age…. Or maybe grown-ups underestimate their ages. Real grown-ups look like grandpas." He looked up. "Get in the Passenger's seat."

Wordlessly, I obeyed. After several minutes of driving, I broke the silence. "So what's it like working for the Utoniums?" I strangely felt open to this guy. It was like he was my very own brother. And I didn't even know that I knew what that felt like.

"It's all right. His daughters all have different personalities. They can be pains in the butt sometimes, but I'll say one thing positively. They've got the looks… but that still doesn't make up entirely for my butt pains." He said the last sentence quickly, and I knew immediately that he didn't mean it. He seemed to know the fact that I knew, and he chuckled.

Silence one again stretched once again between us, and we didn't speak again until we arrived at the mansion. It was bigger than I expected, but I remained unimpressed. I had faced larger things. I guess.

Wordlessly, Butch pulled in and climbed out of the car. I imitated him and followed him into the mansion. It wasn't until we neared the inside when Butch spoke. "We gotta meet Utonium first. He has to know that you're here."

I nodded and we continued walking up the white steps. When we got inside, I examined my surroundings. White. Marble. Precious stone and gems. All those things were meaningless to me, but if boss looked at all these, then he'd go insane. The sight was almost funny. And I haven't laughed for seven years.

"Oh, Butch! …Have you seen my ribbon? I couldn't find it in the laundry…"

A voice interrupted my thoughts. By instinct, I looked up and at the stairs was a redheaded girl. Her hair was incredibly long; it reached her knees. She was wearing a light pink dress and fuzzy pink slippers. I caught her eye, and she blinked at me.

"Oh, hey, Blossom," called Butch, breaking the silence. "Where's your dad?"

"Oh, um… in the library I suppose," she responded. "Butch, who's that?"

"Oh, it's Brick… Brick um… what was your last name again?" he hardly gave me enough time to open my mouth when he said, "Okay, that's not important. (She rolled her eyes at this) He's one of the bodyguards."

The redhead heaved a great sigh. "When will daddy learn that three bodyguards are too much?" she said, mostly to herself. "Our security is freakishly high enough already… I'll have a talk with him later, right after I find my ribbon… MY RIBBON!" she turned bright red and sped off up the steps. I watched her leave. What was her problem?

As if reading my mind, Butch said, "She thinks she looks terrible without her ribbon."

"But she looks great enough already without it," the words were wrung from me.

Butch chuckled. "_Yeah. _Now, we should get going, shouldn't we?"

I nodded, my mind continuing to run normally. Butch turned around and started heading for the corridor. I sneaked one more look at the stairs before following him.

Blossom, right? Blossom Utonium…

**--**

**A/N: **I didn't mean to be so mean to Ms. Keane, but at least we're all happy now right? :D Okay, okay, who am I trying to kid? DON'T KILL ME!!


	2. Chapter 2

Annoying A/N: I should really stop making Brick/Blossom fictions and start paying more attention to their siblings' pairs

**Annoying A/N: **I should really stop making Brick/Blossom fictions and start paying more attention to their siblings' pairs. I mean, where's the damn variety?? Anyway, this chapter is no longer Brick's POV. It's getting harder to make this story angsty. And while we're on a complaining subject, it's even harder to finish a school-life based story!! XP And one last thing, YES, I UPLOADED THIS CHAPTER BEFORE PUTTING UP THIS STORY!

**Chapter 2: **

As Brick and Butch continued down the hallway, Brick noticed a raven-haired girl pass them. She had green eyes, a yellow top and tree green-colored shorts. She wore a cap on her head, and she was looking straight ahead. Brick noticed that Butch and the girl were not paying any attention to each other, so he decided not to break the silence. Then as they passed each other, Butch and the girl bumped roughly on each other's shoulders. Brick watched as they growled at each other.

"What was that for?!"

"What're you talking about? You're the one who should look where you're going!"

"Maybe _you _should be the one who should be looking where she's going, Clumsy!"

"Who're you calling Clumsy?!"

"Who else?"

That was when the raven-haired girl finally noticed Brick. She blinked in confusion. "What?" Butch said, following her gaze. He then saw Brick, who wasn't moving or reacting. The redhead continued watching them as if they had never noticed him at all. "Ohhh…" said Butch, almost slapping himself on the forehead for forgetting all about the new bodyguard. He turned to Buttercup. "Sorry, this is Brick. Don't care about his last name (Buttercup rolled her eyes at this). He's the new bodyguard."

Buttercup heaved a great sigh at the last sentence. "You're looking for papa, right? I wonder if he'll ever believe that we can take care of ourselves. Anyway, it looks like you're heading for the library. You guessed right." And without another word, she left in a slightly gloomier mood. The boys watched her leave.

_It seems that these girls aren't as invulnerable as they think they are, _thought Brick, his face deceiving his thoughts. _They're braver… nevertheless, that doesn't define on how hard they will be to kill. _At this thought, Brick faced ahead.

"So you think those girls are different, huh?" Butch asked as they continued walking. "Well, they are. When we heard that we were supposed to take care o' some girls, we thought they'd be clingy, whiney fraidy cats. We're bound to meet the third one soon. You might change your mind once you've seen her."

Brick said nothing to that, and didn't say anything else as they made their way nearer to the library. The mansion was as big as a palace and maybe was, and if a normal person had to walk all that way to the library, they'd already be panting. However, Brick was not in the least tired at all. He had gotten used to running almost in the speed of light in assassination tasks, and had seven years of practice. Brick noticed that Butch was not panting either, and wondered why. He, however, did not push the subject as Butch pushed the exceedingly large door of the Utoniums' library. He followed Butch inside and watched as he shifted his gaze here and there.

"He's usually somewhere in the front desks," Butch pondered, half to Brick, half to himself. "Where the hell is he now…? Whoa! Here comes little Mr. Boomie! Were you too sissy to see my face again?" Brick blinked his red, half-lidded eyes (yes, his eyes are always half-lidded because he always looks bored and emotionless) as his friend ran forward to approach a figure in the distance. Because he was still walking, Brick was able to see them closer. He saw that the man Butch had approached was a blond with bright blue eyes and maybe a few freckles. He saw this from afar, but Brick has very good eyesight.

When he finally reached them, Boomer was the first to notice again, since Butch's back was faced to him. Boomer blinked. "Is that the other bodyguard?" he asked Butch. Butch looked at Brick and groaned at his forgetfulness.

"Urgh, I forgot again! Yeah he is. His name's Brick whatnot."

"Whatnot?"

"I don't care what his last name is."

Boomer rolled his eyes. Brick hypothesized that probably everyone would do that, and expected him to do what he always did because of his usual forgetfulness. Boomer turned to Brick, who immediately yet steadily looked back at him, an unreadable expression on his face, however, Boomer's intentions were friendly. He held out his hand. "Hey, dude. I'm Boomer Johns. Yeah, I know. I'm Butch's brother."

Brick, for the first time in seven years, hesitated before taking his hand. "Hello." And then it happened.

A strong feeling came over Brick's hand traveling through his blood veins, right from Boomer's physical contact. It was like they shared the same blood and the same relations. And from that moment on, Brick was closer to Boomer and Butch Johns than he had ever been with to before in his whole life. (No gay stuff, all right? Sibling stuff! _Sibling stuff!! _BLOODY SIBLING STUFF!!)

"Anyways," said Butch, breaking the contact, "what were you doing with Bubs this time, Boomie?"

Boomer frowned at his brother, but before a sound could escape his mouth, a jaded yet gentle, feminine voice interrupted. "It's Boomer, not Boomie, Butch, and it's Bubbles, not Bubs. When will you ever learn?" All three boys turned their heads to the direction of the voice, and Brick saw that it was another a blue-eyed girl who had her blonde hair in pigtails. She was wearing a long-sleeved blouse, an under-fluffed, plaid blue skirt and bunny slippers. Her knuckles were still glued to her hips as she made her way to the boys.

"Oh come on, Bubs, don't be so hostile. You know how forgetful I am," said Butch. His eyes then widened when he saw Bubbles' blue eyes start to notice Brick. "Speaking of forgetful…" her words trailed off when Butch quickly cut in.

"Oh—this is Brick! He's the new bodyguard. And his last name's not important."

Even before she had started, Brick knew immediately that Bubbles would roll her eyes. She gave Brick a small smile before speaking, mostly to herself. "Oh poor father… he must be so worried. But he's overreacting. I wonder when he will ever have faith in his daughters." She looked up again and said, "You're looking for him, aren't you? Well, he's at the seventh row. He's studying a new category, you see."

Butch nodded enthusiastically. "Thanks, Bubs!"

"Don't call me Bubs." Bubbles said this firmly, but it was clear that there was a tint of amusement visible in both her face and voice. She turned to her Boomer. "Well, shall we be going now, Boomer?"

"What're you guys doing anyway?" Butch asked interestedly, his eagerness to look for the professor disappearing.

"None of your business," Boomer replied. "Let's go, Bubbles." She nodded in agreement and they turned around to leave.

"I'm not moving one step until you tell me what you guys're doing!!" Butch declared stubbornly.

"Oh yeah? Then what about poor Brick here, standing and waiting patiently for you to get off your ass?"

Butch's cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. He turned back to Brick, finally leaving the pair alone. They sighed in relief and left. "Sorry," Butch apologized.

"It's all right."

Butch did not push the subject further and began walking down the aisle, looking for the professor. Brick followed him, and finally, they spotted the seventh row and a man sitting at one of the benches. Butch shamelessly called out, "Hey, Mr. Utonium! Mr. Utonium! We've got the new bodyguard!!"

Mr. Utonium looked up, frowning. "Butch, lower your voice. This is a library," he said in his deep, professional voice.

"Sorry," said Butch hastily. "Anyway, this is Brick, the new bodyguard!!"

Mr. Utonium smiled up at the redhead. "Hello, Brick," he said friendlily. "Have you met my daughters? You're in charge of Blossom, she's a redhead like you, and so it'll be easy for you to find her."

"Yeah, we've all met them already," said Butch quickly.

"What is your full name, Brick?" asked the professor. This time, Butch did not cut in. The raven-haired boy stared at his shoes. He knew that the last name must be important.

Brick's last name is long forgotten. No one has ever cared about it. But Brick was quick to reply, in all his years of deceit. "John, sir," he replied coolly. "Brick Joshua John." This was very near to Butch and Boomer's last name, but he felt like it. The professor noticed this fact (not the lying one) and was amused.

"Ahhh," he said. "That is very well. I shall add it now to our records. Now, would you like to start on your session with Blossom or would you like a tour? Perhaps you could do both. My daughter is very kind and will show you around if you ask her."

Brick found the second one most intriguing. He would be able to know her defenses and all the nooks and crannies of the mansion so that it would be difficult for him to get lost. "I choose the third option, if you will please, sir," said Brick in a colorless, polite tone.

The professor smiled. "All right. Blossom is most likely found in her room. Just go where you came from, climb two staircases up and visit the fourth door. Her name is on it." Brick nodded.

"Well… I've got to get going," Butch said aloud. "I've got to attend to my charge." Then in a whisper through gritted teeth, he said, "Buttercup will most likely strangle me if I miss our arm wrestling match."

For the first time in years, Brick smiled a small smile. He had smiled counterfeited smiles before, but this small smile was the only true one. Brick was amused.

Butch noticed this and grinned radiantly in making someone smile. Then with a small wave, he sped off in the other direction from where they came from. Brick received the professor's reassuring nod before following him in a relaxed stride.

-

Brick, having accomplished the first spiraled staircase, made his way to the next one. In his boredom, he occasionally looked below him and saw the silver rails and curls of its design. The girls had some taste.

When he finally made it, he counted the doors to find Blossom's. As he expected, it was pale pink. A silver sign on the door bore the words "_Blossom's room_" in wavy, cursive writing. Below her name in smaller letters was "_Knock before entering_." It seemed stupid to him, so he swung the door open. Inside, the room was based on one particular color—pink.

"Urgh… Harrumph!"

Brick's attention drew to the large, round, pink bed lying several feet away from him. It seemed to be hopping, and the mattress had a large lump that kept moving from one place to another. Brick did not move, but his yes continued to stare fixedly at the bed, which emitted large noises and growls. Finally, the lump started to move to the end of the bed in front of him, and out peeked ten small toes, then a rear. It kept poking this way and that before the whole body emerged from under the bed.

Long locks of red, carroty hair burst from under the divan and flowed behind her as she straightened her dress. She did not yet notice Brick for her back was faced to him, but Brick didn't say a word as Blossom stood up, flipped her long, knee-length hair behind her, and, with her eyes still closed and her eyebrows furrowed, turned around.

And opened her eyes.

And screamed.

Hastily, Blossom ripped the blanket that was spread over her bed and covered her hair completely. She stared at Brick with her big pink eyes and then looked down at her small feet. After a while, Brick broke the silence.

"Were you looking for your ribbon?"

"…Y-yes."

"I think it's around here." Brick walked to the side of the room where a chest brimmed with overflowing stuffed toys lay. He began to rummage through them as Blossom sat sighingly on her bed.

"If you're wondering why I have so much plushies, then visit Bubbles' room. She has so many stuffed animals that they reach the roof." Having said this, Blossom looked up. "They would've reached the sky if some of them weren't lying on the floor, the bed and her desks."

Wordlessly, Brick pulled out a strip of smooth, red cloth. Blossom shrieked in delight and leaped up, rushing over to where Brick was. "Thank you! Thanks you so much!" She grabbed the ribbon from his hands and eagerly began to tie her hair up. Brick watched her do so.

"In my opinion," he said quietly as he got up, "you look much better without the ribbon."

He had said this inaudibly, but she heard every word he said. She blushed lightly. "…Oh…thanks." She turned away and gave her ribbon one last tug to tighten it before lowering her hands. That was when Blossom looked up at the expectant Brick.

"Would you like me to show you around?"

-

"Seriously, I've been in this house for like thirteen years and I still get lost," Blossom complained, skipping ahead of him as they walked down the aisle. Then she gave herself a twirl to face Brick. "Speaking of thirteen years, I'm turning fourteen soon. When's your birthday?"

"I don't know," he replied flatly. Somehow, he felt like he needed to be honest to her. She was being as honest to him. But that couldn't have been the reason. Some people could give Brick the secrets of their hearts and he could still tell them that he was female (which would be a great lie).

Blossom stared at him. "You mean… nobody has ever known your birthday, so you just forgot?" Brick nodded in reply. "Oh that's terrible!" Blossom gasped. She then looked up, a worried and thoughtful look on her face. "Not knowing your own birthday…you could just estimate how old you are…"

"I do that."

Blossom stared at him. "Oh…" she then smiled. "Maybe you can share my birthday!"

Brick raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I don't mind. When it's my birthday, we can blow our candles together and stuff. Then there will be a celebration for your age too. Then when people ask for you age, you don't have to answer 'I don't know'." She giggled at this, then her eyes snapped open and her face dropped. "Unless, of course, you don't want to."

She looked very much that he wouldn't.

"Whatever."

Blossom's face lit up and her eyes brightened, but her mouth did not turn up until two seconds later when she bore her answer. "Yes!"

-

"Hey, let's go to the garden!" Blossom said enthusiastically. She ran ahead of him and Brick quickened his step to keep her in sight. Finally, he saw her struggling to open a large door. He walked over to help her, but before he got the chance to, Blossom was able to open the door herself. Brick nearly gasped when strong light enveloped him. He started to protect his eyesight with one arm. Blossom, however, was delighted. She hopped outside.

"Oh there's a butterfly!" Blossom yelled.

_And so there is, _Brick thought uninterestedly as the butterfly fluttered toward him. His eyes wore a bored expression as it landed on the top of his head. Blossom slowly made her way toward him. She stood one stair below him and reached her arm up to transfer the butterfly to her finger. Brick didn't know why, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from her ample sized chest. It moved slightly as she shifted her movement, and finally, with a satisfied smile, she moved away from Brick, the butterfly on her finger. She grinned radiantly at Brick, who gave no reaction whatsoever. All he could do was hope she could not hear the beats of his heart punching his thankfully sturdy ribcage.

His thoughts were knocked out of his head as the butterfly left a very disappointed Blossom. "It didn't like me," she said sadly. But before Brick could retort, another thing caught her attention. "Oh, look at this! The flowers have bloomed." She stood under a curve that vines clung to and sprouted large, pink flowers. (It's something weddings use sometimes, I don't know its name XP) "It looks so beautiful."

The curve led to a long, circular glasshouse, which's walls were covered in greens. Brick continued to watch Blossom as she took in everything around her. She appreciated every little thing. She was so unlike Brick, who never thought much good of anything.

And then suddenly, a man all dressed in black tight clothing crept above the glasshouse, ready to prance onto the defenseless girl.

-

**A/N: **…Yes.


	3. Chapter 3

Annoying A/N: I think I'll need help

**Annoying A/N:** I think I'll need help. In this chap, it's once again Normal POV. Please tell me whether the whole story must be normal POV, or Brick's. Or perhaps I should keep shifting. What do you think?

**Chapter 3:**

I had been through this before. It was the same routine every time. My eyes slightly widening, he grabbed Blossom out of the way before the person in black could attack her. Blossom and I were on the ground, I on top of Blossom, whose face contained a hugely surprised expression. "Brick—wha?!"

But I did not pause to answer. Teeth gritted, he leaped up and pulled a pistol out of my pocket. He pointed this at the attacker, who was still adjusting to the shock. One second, and the aggressor would have been shot. But that exact time, Blossom got to feet and pushed I from behind, yelling, "NOOO!!"

I fell on my stomach to the ground, and so did Blossom on top of me. The assailant took my advantage to hop back onto the roof of the glasshouse and disappear. I picked myself up by pushing my palm against my knee, causing Blossom to slide of me. I faced her, looking bad-tempered. For the first time in a long time, I was angry. Very angry. Never had I failed or have been stopped from killing someone. Especially someone I was actually trying to protect! "What did you do that for, you stupid idiot?!"

"Whether my intentions were bad or not, I will not tolerate to murder!" she argued, still on the ground.

"Bad?! He was trying to kill you! I was just trying to protect your freaking life!"

"You—" she started to retort, but paused when she understood my sentence deeper. Humph. Silence is for cowards. The idiot couldn't even think of anything to say. Not paying attention to her reaction, I looked away and growled, then stood completely upright. Blossom gradually did the same.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "But…but still…"

Her words trailed off as if she had finished her sentence and I spoke again. "Whatever. We should be getting inside now."

The latter wordlessly nodded and followed me into the mansion with her head hanging low. I was still scowling, but he was no longer thinking about Blossom preventing my attempt. He was thinking about who the person in black was. I was the boss' favorite, and it was my first day. So surely he had not thought that he was slowing up on my job and decided to send off another assassin. That would mean someone else were after the Utoniums. But who and why?

Perhaps it was the same reason boss was going after them. But that would mean that it's a real reason. A _real_ one. Not just because the boss got insulted or jealous… but what could the cause be?

I was just pondering over my when Blossom lifted her head. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, yeah." I waved her off.

"But I'm really, really, sorry…really I am…"

I was starting to get annoyed by her insistence, but my voice succeeded in agreeing with my unreadable expression. "You keep saying that, but you don't even know what you're sorry about."

"Of course I do!" she protested, her cheeks reddening.

"Then what?" I looked at her from the corner of my eye.

"Um…" Blossom paused, pressed her finger against her lower lip and looked at the sky thoughtfully, a clueless expression plastered all over her face.

"I thought so." I said, turning away as he continued walking.

"Wait!" she cried, rushing to keep up with me. But when she nearly reached me, she missed a step and would have fallen to the ground if she had not grabbed my belt. I paused; turned my head and glared coldly at her, telling her to get away immediately. Embarrassedly, She blushed and straightened herself, her head low. "Okay, I'm not sure why, but I wanted to apologize because you looked so unhappy. I thought that maybe I did something wrong." Blossom lifted her head, showing sincere eyes. "If you can tell me what I did wrong, I might be able to make it up to you."

By that time, I would have already stopped, looking at her with an incredulous look on my face. Was she for real? No way. I continued to stare at Blossom, whose eyes seemed to get watery.

I was stunned. Simply stunned.

I used to think that people in the world were evil, selfish, and greedy, bringing others down just to heighten themselves. Others were cowardly, pathetic, dependent and always unsatisfied. Those who were kind and selfless, such as Mojo and my family, were always being hunted down, and if alive, would be living completely in the dark. I hated those people so much, influencing me to hate almost each and every person I met. It's best not to get attached, lest they die or change completely, turning your whole world upside down. That would cause you to be lusty for revenge, bloodthirsty. You could also have lived in the dark as well, detached from everyone, completely lost.

Or perhaps you could have ended up like I did. Lusty for revenge, my heart yearning for those who I loved, disgusted at weaknesses, and a lack for any appreciation for the world of blood, darkness.

But Blossom was different. She wasn't afraid to show her inner self, and always took satisfaction in everything around her. She thought of others before she did herself, and in spite of all my, refused to live in concealment.

That must be easy when you're filthy rich, I thought scathingly, my face starting to produce a frown. But you're being hunted down now, aren't you? That doesn't make any difference. You're stupid. You'll soon be doomed.

Still, I had a feeling that even if she did know, she wouldn't care.

That's impossible.

_Is it?_

Yes.

_Then why do you not think so?_

Huh?

_Never mind. Look at poor Blossom here; standing and watching you talk mindlessly to yourself?_

"Wha…" I snapped back to reality and stared at the redhead in front of me. She was staring at me awkwardly, her pink eyes bearing into me.

And that was when pink met red.

We had surprised each other, and simultaneously took a step back.

Seriously, not many have pink eye colors, but it seemed to suit her nicely, almost expressing her whole personality. I guess mine are, too. Red is the color blood, and I see a lot of them often. Not that I want to. I just don't mind.

Having red eyes is actually sort of an advantage when you're an assassin. It gives your target a chilling feeling. When you're angry, they could die of fear in their piteousness. Even making them emotionless could send a chill down their backs. You just walk along, not minding anyone else's business, and if anyone could actually notice the darkness in your eyes, then they'd stare. And stare. And stare. It can actually scare them, but in their inconsiderateness they don't care about it, especially what you may think, being an outsider.

Humph. Weaklings.

"Brick?"

"What?" She was probably going to ask, 'Why are your eyes red?' or some stupid question.

"Your eyes…" I knew it.

"…Are red," I interrupted, then sharply turned and continued walking.

"No… they're…" then she frowned, still looking at her shoes. "Oh—never mind!"

We started walking again, until I said, "Well, are you going to tell your father?"

I didn't know what made me ask that question. I immediately regretted it. She perked up, looking at me with a startled expression on her face. "Huh? Oh…" her face dropped, then she determinedly shook her head. "No. He'll just get worried and do something else stupid."

I was relieved with her answer. Without giving any reaction to her response, we started walking silently again. "…Well, now what?" I asked bluntly.

"Huh? …Oh, um, I guess you can find your way around now…"

Huff. I could do that even without your help.

"…So I'll just see you later."

And with that, she ran ahead of me. I knew she was heading for her room. I waited until she was completely out of sight before I resumed my movement and started walking again.

-

When I mentioned that I could find my way around without her help doesn't necessarily mean that I know where everything is. That includes the room where I was supposed to stay.

Luckily, I was able to find Butch and the girl he was calling 'Butterbutt' in the hallway. It looked like she had beaten him in the arm wrestling match he had mentioned earlier. I approached them, and he noticed me, automatically straightening his appearance. "Oh, hey, Brick," he said, trying to sound calm.

"You be careful, Red," his companion said, smirking at Butch. "You're talking to the arm wrestling loser, and he's about to do some really freaky stuff that'll make you regret knowing him."

"Aww, come on," Butch whined, as if I wasn't there and it was just the two of them again. "I thought we discussed this…"

"You stupid idiot, you keep directing our argument to earlier events!"

"What? But you told me that it was smart 'cause looking at the past always directs us to the future!"

"YOU'RE DOING IT AGAIN! I told you a week ago that it was a stupid saying!"

"But—"

"…Ahem?"

"WHAT?" they simultaneously said, both turning their heads to look at me. Then Butch slapped his forehead and Buttercup sighed.

"Damn, I keep forgetting stuff!"

"Ah, you finally agreed."

"Don't mess with me, Butterbutt, you forgot, too!"

"Not as much as you do!"

"Nuh-uh!" he said, for it was the only thing he could wrack his mind for. (What a childish mind it must be)

"Hell yeah! Remember that time when you were supposed to boil water in a kettle and forgot to light the gas?!"

"…I thought it was automatic!"

"We're not that rich, stupid!"

"Well, I thought you'd be, being such a spoiled brat. And stop calling me stupid, Butterbutt!"

"I AM NOT A SPOILED BRAT! And I'll only if you stop calling me that…"

"Hey, I just wanted to know where my bedroom is," I said a little loudly, for the couple's argument was getting even more heated, and the heater it became, the closer their faces got, and the closer they got, the louder their voices started to get. I knew they heard me, because they parted at once.

"Huh? I thought Butch told me Blossom was showing you around… but then again, he _is _such a liar," Butterbutt—I mean Buttercup said, glaring at Butch. He growled at her, and I, sensing another argument to come on, interjected immediately.

"Yeah—but I forgot to ask her," I said, "So she left without telling me." I decided not to mention her little 'near-deliberate-death-by-unknown-assassin incident'.

Buttercup rolled her eyes. "Well, she _is _such a forgetful little thing…much like Butch," she added quietly, but him, being beside her, overheard. Luckily, she spoke before he got the chance to argue. "You're sharing the same bedroom with Boomer and Butch. Ask one of 'em."

Butch left his bitter mode to at least give me the directions. "It's on the ground floor, and that's probably the most complicated floor in the whole cage. Being on the ground floor kinda gives me a feeling of unimportance, too, so that sucks…" Buttercup sent a nudge to his ribs and he winced, "—but I'm not here to tell you how it's gonna be. Anyway…"

After receiving slightly jumbled directions that Buttercup had sometimes corrected, saying that there wasn't such a room or creature in the whole mansion, I walked off to leave the couple to their unfinished argument, slightly amused.

As I walked to my desired destination, I was debating on the reasons on why I was feeling such feelings that I had never felt before. Was it because they were funny? But I hadn't laughed to other things…

_**Flashback:**_

A boy by the age of six suppressed a pant as he scrambled up behind what appeared to be a man in a purple cloak. "Come on, Brick, you can make it," he said, turning to look at the boy, which you now know is me. There was a frown on my face.

"How much farther is it, Jojo?" I demanded crudely, like he was my assistant leading me to a treasure I had ordered him to find, when in fact he was my guide and I was his ward.

He grabbed my hands with his gloved ones, and I winced as he pulled me up. "We're right here," he said as I got to my feet. Frowning, I looked around in suspicion. It was a dark night, and the stars weren't twinkling the usual annoying light that they usually did.

"Look, down there," he said, directing my gaze to what was below us. It was a man with a rather outstanding belly. He was alone, with only his companion's voice through his walkie-talkie.

"So he's the next dead man?" I asked him. He nodded, then positioned himself beside me, scrutinizing the sight before us. But what I didn't know that time was that he was actually examining me. He then stood up, and without warning, burst laughing. I was surprised by his sudden burst, but he didn't stop.

"Jojo!" I said angrily. "What the hell are you laughing for? You'll blow our cover!"

Despite the noise he was making, our victim could not distinguish were we were. He looked around, then spoke fearfully into his walkie-talkie. Finally, I managed to stop Mojo from laughing. "Why the hell were you laughing, anyway, Jojo?" I growled, scratching my mass of red hair.

But instead of answering my question, he picked up the cap from beside me and slapped it over my head. "Hey!" I said as the cap went over my eyes. Now I knew my hair would be as messy as ever. When I adjusted it over my forehead, I saw that Mojo was smiling at me. Now what?

"Call me Mojo, son," he said. Then he looked at the victim once again. "Now… let's go."

**End of Flashback**

I had no idea what was so funny until one of my missions became the reason (the flashback will come in later chapters). And I didn't think it was funny at all.

But that wasn't the only one. One day the boss had walked into the hall (one of his rare visits) and presented what seemed to be a joke to everyone who had saluted and praised him, and even tried to softly yet persistently remind him of his or her so-called 'successes'. I was the only one who stayed silent, drinking my coffee for the day, and after the boss spoke everyone but me had burst laughing. I hadn't gotten the joke, but then again everyone could have just forced himself or herself to laugh…

I swung open the door and took in the atmosphere around me. Not bad. There were three beds in the room, one in the right and two beds at the left, on top of each other. There was also a door at the end of the room, and I concluded it to be the bathroom. Without finding out if my hunch was true (Brick doesn't have too big curiosity), I walked over to the mahogany desk and tended to the mobile that had been vibrating in the back pocket of my black pants for a while.

I pulled the walkie-talkie out and placed it close to my mouth, repeating the same phrase that Mojo had started. "Speak, your servant is listening."

"Brick, m'boy…"

**--**

**A/N: **Well?! ANSWER ME!! Oh, and no spears in the room, please.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

**A/N: **The reason for my disappearance is in the A/Ns of Powerpuff Love Triangle. So no mob. Please.

**Chapter 4: **

"Have you gotten any info?" the boss' voice went through the walkie-talkie.

"Not much, really," I replied. I didn't really want to tell the boss about the attack I received earlier. I'm sure he already knew.

"Ah… okay… I guess that besides maybe an attack, nothing happened." What did I say? "Nah, take your time, boy, they'll soon be at your mercy."

"Yes sir."

I put down the walkie-talkie after he left. At my mercy? The boss had no idea what kind of people these are…

--Normal POV--

"Hi Bubbles."

The blonde in pigtails looked up in response to the familiar voice. "Oh, hi, Bloss. Why the long face?"

Blossom's head bent low. How would she say this? "Um…" she went closer to her youngest sister and started whispering, "please, don't tell father/the professor, but somebody attacked Brick and I earlier."

Bubbles' eyes widened. "Who?"

"Don't be dense, Bubbles, of course I don't know. He was all covered up in black and stuff."

"Oh gosh. Where?"

"In the garden."

Bubbles frowned. "We'll have to take care of ourselves, Blossom. I'm going to tell Buttercup. Stay away from the garden. I think it would be wise if we tell Butch and Boomer, too."

Blossom sighed. "All right. If they can keep a secret."

Bubbles nodded then continued organizing the books. She then looked at Blossom again. "Blossom… what else is the matter?"

"Huh—what? Oh, um…" should she tell her or not? Would Brick be angry? But she's her sister… "The truth is… Brick and I had a fight."

Bubbles smiled understandingly, not asking why. "Well, we all get these times. I'm sure you apologized many times, and he most probably is upset about another reason. Just give it time and maybe do something nice for him. You'll be okay."

Blossom smiled. "Thanks, Bubbles."

"WHOOOAAA!" a voice filled their ears, and from the other row they could see Boomer emerging from a pile of dusty books. "Cough… cough… I'm okay!" he yelled.

Bubbles shook her head. "Seriously, Boomer." She started walking over to him. "Let me help you…"

Blossom watched as Bubbles helped Boomer out of the pile of books, and Boomer thanking her with gratitude. Blossom watched as they both laughed and dusted themselves off. Boomer helped Bubbles up, and they both started picking up the books, apparently engaged in a pleasant conversation.

Blossom sighed. She wished she could get along with Brick like Bubbles and Boomer did. _Time, _she reminded herself. _Just give it time. _

As she walked out of the library, Blossom tried to recall the rest of her sister's advice. _Do something nice for him. _Hmm, what could that be? The first thing on Blossom mind when she heard the words "do something nice" was to do something kind to a certain person without expecting a reward. The happiness of the person was enough.

But what could she do? Do some cleaning? Give him a gift? Bake him something? The last suggestion seemed to be a good idea, but Blossom wasn't the best cook. The only time she ever made perfect pastries was when Bubbles was monitoring her. Still, Blossom was glad that she was _much _better than her green sister. Thankfully, someone had gotten a fire department ready outside the kitchen the last time Buttercup set the room on fire—or cooked.

Before she left, Blossom picked up a cooking book on her way out. As she made her way to the kitchen, she flipped through the pages, debating on what pastry to cook.

"Wow, these are all so pretty… chocolate forest, toffee cake, apple pie… What would Brick like?" she wondered. "Maybe he'd like chocolate, but that's too dark, it wouldn't sit him very much… what about strawberry cake? I don't know if he'd like it, but I love it! If he doesn't finish, I'll eat the rest… hehe, naw…"

And with determination, Blossom entered the culinary arts room.

-

Blossom had baked like she never baked before. She made sure that the batter had more flour than her face did, and tried to make it extra sweet, but not too much. Her favorite part was loading in the strawberries, and she popped a few in her mouth as she did it.

Then, as she heard the _ding _of the oven, she quickly ran over to it and her eyes widened to see that it had not gone overly big or overly flat. Happy, she began to decorate it with freshly cleaned, raw strawberries and vanilla icing.

When it was ready, Blossom looked critically at the neat pattern she had made with the raw strawberries. She was satisfied, but when she picked up the cake to make her way to his bedroom, her knees began to shake. What if it he didn't like it, and it was so bad that he never spoke to her again? All the while she walked, Blossom made up several possibilities on what would happen. And when she finally decided to just run and hide the cake, she found herself right in front of his door.

Blossom inhaled. _No turning back now, _she told herself as she weakly knocked on the door. No answer. Did that mean she could come in? A "come in!" from Brick was unimaginable. Deciding to enter and without one thought about the possibility that he had not heard her knock, Blossom turned the knob and entered. "Brick? I—ah!" Blossom quickly shut her eyes, nearly dropping the cake if it wasn't for Brick, who had swooped towards her and stabled it in her arms.

"I am so sorry!" Blossom cried; her eyes still shut tight. "I didn't mean to—"

"Look," said Brick sighingly, knowing what she meant. "I'm not naked."

"Y-you're not?" Blossom opened one eye uncertainly, then sighed in relief. "Oh gosh. I'm sorry. I thought that when you pulled that shirt over your head—"

"I understand," said Brick monotonously, knowing about what an overactive person she was.

Blossom sighed again and plopped herself down on his bed, the cake bobbing slightly in her arms. "I keep making awkward moments. The awkwardness just now could have been avoided, and I just had to be stupid and overact!"

"That happens when people are nervous," Brick shrugged somewhat. From what he remembered, he had never been completely nervous in his life. "Anyway, what's that cake for and what are you doing here?"

"Oh my gosh—I forgot," said Blossom. "This cake, it's for you." She finally realized how stupid the words sounded and quickly added, "You know, I was just grateful for you protecting me and—earlier I—er… just eat it! But if you don't like it you can just throw it away or throw it in my face or whatever…"

"Um…" Brick responded with a peculiar look, but was quickly cut off.

"A spoon!" Blossom cried suddenly. "I don't believe it—what are you going to eat with? I'll be right back!" and with that, she sped off before Brick could stop her. Sighing, he sat on the bed. She retuned one minute later with a small plate and spoon. "All right," she said. "Now you can enjoy your—ack! I forgot to bring a knife! Wait, this'll take ten seconds—"

But Brick, knowing that, because of the size of the mansion, bringing a knife all the way to his room from the kitchen would not take ten seconds, jumped up and grabbed her arm with great force, causing them both to topple onto the bed, Blossom on top of Brick.

"Look," said Brick, breathing uneasily, "I already have a knife. Just stay here, all right?"

Blossom nodded, blushing slightly. But she began to blush even deeper when she saw their position. Jumping off, she tried to suppress her blush, doing it very poorly. "I-I'm sorry."

"It's all right," said Brick distantly, glad that she had not asked why he brought a knife. He then eyed the cake. He had rarely seen a cake this close. He had seen cakes many times in shop windows, but the last time he had ever gotten a chance to eat cake was on his seventh birthday.

"So where's that knife of yours?" interrupted Blossom. "I-I'll cut it." Brick nodded and handed her the dagger-like knife and Blossom, after giving the knife a wary look, began to neatly cut a slice out of the cake. "Here," she said, handing him the slice of cake on the plate. He blinked; his eyes half-lidded at it, then wanly took the plate from her and hesitated. "Um… I…"

"Do you need help?" she asked, the one who always loved helping.

Brick, who had almost never needed help, did not say a word.

Blossom stared down at the cake, then gently picked out a strawberry from the top of the cake and popped it into her mouth. This was going to be the hardest task she had ever done in helping someone. She turned her head towards her bodyguard, who looked at her with confusion. What was she doing? Why was she getting so close?

Brick backed out, and Blossom wanted to stop. But she _had _to make him eat it.

Brick was cornered on the bed. Blossom bent over him and her lips softly met his. Brick's mouth opened as something round came in contact with him, and Blossom pulled away quickly, blushing deeply. Brick chewed the strawberry that had a bit of cake on it, then winced slightly.

"Is it…bad?" was all she could say. Her expression protruded hopefulness, distress, and misery. Had she suffered all that embarrassment for nothing? Oh great, another awkward moment!

Brick shook his head slowly as he sat up and swallowed. "It's just…sweet."

Too sweet? Blossom had been concentrating on the sugar, making it sweet to the taste while at the same time trying not to pour the whole container in. Now he said it was too sweet! "Oh gosh… I worked so hard on making it sweet, what an idiot I am! Too much sugar again. I promise that if I ever dare to make a cake again—"

"No," Brick cut in. "The sweetness is all right. It's good. But it's just so sweet for me. _Any _sweet to me is too sweet. I haven't had them in a long time so…"

"Oh…" said Blossom. "How come you haven't had any sweets? I can't live a week without at least one candy…"

Brick had dreaded this question, but like he always did, came up with a ready answer. "Because I wasn't given them. I was being taught not to get used to them. I had pretty strict teachers."

"I see," said Blossom, staring sorrowfully at her knees. "It must've been hard for you. Not being rewarded with sweets or anything…"

_You think living a week without sweets is hard? _Brick thought. _Try seeing people you killed bleed in front of you… that isn't very hard for me either, though… _

"Not really," Brick said to her. He shrugged and looked away. "I'm used to it."

"Oh…" said Blossom. She gathered up the rest of the cake and stood up. _My first attempt is a failure, _thought Blossom. "Well… see you, then. You can finish… changing, then. Sorry for having wasted your time." She was very miserable.

"Hey," said Brick suddenly as she reached for the doorknob. Blossom lifted her head and faced him.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks anyway." He said faintly, his voice getting quieter.

Now, Brick was a very good actor. He had said words of thankfulness several times. "Thank you, sir", "you are so very kind, miss", and "you have my fullest and deepest gratitude" were some of the things he said. But with this thank you, he couldn't manage to make it formal. And that was because he truly meant it.

Blossom's face lit up and she grinned broadly. "You're welcome!" she said brightly, and with that, shut the door. Brick sat on the bed, his elbows on his knees.

"Oh. My. God."

Those three words having escaped his mouth, Brick collapsed on his bed and uttered yells into his pillow, which no one heard.

Behold, the boy who had fallen in love.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, Blossom's heard was pounding like crazy. The ends of her lips had reached her ears and she tried to fight the urge to jump and yell with joy. But she just couldn't. Her first attempt worked.

She did it!!

She started twirling and dancing and singing at the top of her voice, unaware of the damage, or the blessing she had inflicted upon the boy who she had left in his room. She continued her activities of joy until a _splat _echoed through the corridors.

"…Oops."

--


	5. Chapter 5

Recap: She started twirling and dancing and singing at the top of her voice, unaware of the damage, or the blessing she had in

**Recap:** _She started twirling and dancing and singing at the top of her voice, unaware of the damage, or the blessing she had inflicted upon the boy who she had left in his room. She continued her activities of joy until a splat echoed through the corridors._

"…_Oops."_

**Chapter 5: **

"Oh what a mess. Why is it that I'm always causing trouble for myself?" she thought aloud as she dropped to her knees. "Yech… it's all sticky. Should I use a broom? I don't know…"

"Uh… do you need help?"

The girl on her knees had her red head shot up to see who had spoken; and her eyes widened when she saw who it was. Blushing a light shade of red, she turned away. "I don't know… I've never cleaned sticky things like this before but I guess I can handle it…"

Three seconds of silence passed and Brick sighed.

"Let me help you."

He couldn't leave her now that… now that…

Now that his first kiss was stolen.

His. First. Kiss. His first kiss had been stolen away from someone he had met that very day, and once more for a ridiculous reason, to make him swallow something he was reluctant to eat. A kiss is a personal thing that most people would treasure, and they definitely wouldn't plan it to be with a person the just met.

But Brick just couldn't bring himself to hate her. And that was because… he would treasure that moment, he didn't really plan it, and he was fine with the reason…

_And that was because he fell in love. _

Brick is a bright boy that can easily know something when he sees it, or in this case, _feels _it. Most people would be confused with this feeling, and though Brick knows completely what it is, he isn't sure either. How did he come to love such a blunt person, a person who overreacts when seen in the beautiful state of hers when being without her hair tied up with a bow, someone… someone who…

Unable to think anymore, Brick looked up at the longhaired redhead beside him, her face troubled and concentrated on putting the excess of the spilled cake back onto the plate. His eyelids drooped slightly over his red eyes as they hovered over her angelic face.

And then, all of a sudden, all of his questions were answered.

"Huh? Are you okay, Brick?" Blossom's face suddenly becomes tense as her mind fills with the possibility of problems she caused.

Brick shook his head. And then he did something; he did something no one has seen much of. He did something that made Blossom's eyes widen, and cleared Brick's head. And you know what he did?

As radiant as the sun (that currently wasn't) shining down (upon them), Brick smiled. Truly smiled.

-

It was the first time he ever showed an unwavering, certain smile without reluctance. Not being able to help it, Blossom was entranced. Brightly they glimmered and she stared at his lips like a curious child.

All of a sudden, however, the grinning boy had exclamation points shooting out of his red head for the very first time, and abruptly backed out. "I—um, er, we should be getting back to work now shan't we??"

Embarrassed and desperate to abandon the subject, Brick had stuttered unintentionally. It was strange that love could make even the coldest person embarrass himself. Brick had been through a lot in the few years of his vengeful life. From being a businessman to a pathetic beggar, he never failed or buried his head in his old, Styrofoam pillow cursing the times he had to pretend crawl at the feet of important people Boss hated for hectic reasons. Anything he was told to do, he never wavered or asked questions. An agent would have screamed if told that Brick made a mistake; either that, or laugh like a maniac.

But Brick _did _make mistakes.

Once he killed all the guards instead of shaking them. Another time he got away with a hundred thousand dollars instead of fifty thousand. Then there was the time most remembered (because that's what sent the whole hall laughing), he killed the hostage instead of keeping him alive. The person who cared for the hostage jumped out the fifth floor window after the blood made a puddle on the floor. But through these mighty mistakes, no one really cared. Except for the one who jumped out the window, of course.

The cake now fully gathered, Brick told Blossom, stuttering slightly, the next step. It was to get a rag or a mop to clean up the rest of the sticky substances.

"Oh! Why didn't I think of that?" Blossom slapped her forehead with her slightly moist hand. She then grinned broadly, causing Brick to blush, and not noticing, hopped to her feet. "Well, I'll go get them!" (I hope she's not too much of an airhead for you guys –o–)

And with that, she half-ran, half-skipped away, Brick staring after her with bright red cheeks. He was lost drowning in that long, flowing ponytail that bounced against her back as she jogged cheerfully to the Culinary Arts room. When she had disappeared from view, the boy on his knees looked sleepy for a moment, his eyes drooping lower than his usual half-lidded look, and his mouth forming a small o. Then the next thing he knew, he was grinding his teeth and gripping, in his hands, his head, which was shaking wildly from side to side. Gradually it slowed until he stopped, and his lower end reached his heels with a big thump. His hands, however, stayed clutched in his messy mass of hair, and his teeth still grinding.

"What the f+ck is wrong with me?" he cursed, under his breath, quivering eyes on his knees. "How can this happen? This was not part of the mission… I can't… I can't _fall in love _with the enemy… because eventually, I might have to kill—"

His words trailed off and his hands dropped from his hair. His eyes were hollow, his pupils were smaller than ever, and his skin became as pale as a ghost's. Then, in a split second, his elbows moved from his sides to the icing-covered floor.

_NO! _his mind screamed. _I can't kill her! Please, no, not that!! _

That was what he simply could not take. He finally stopped wrenching his head around, and allowed his tightly scrunched red eyes to open a little. There, reflected in his crimson orbs, was Blossom, her red ribbon torn, her body outstretched, her light pink dress soaked in a pool of blood that bathed her limbs—

"No… no… _NOOOOO!!"_

And the next sound that filled the corridors were screams of bloody murder. It was the first scream that ever escaped the mouth of Brick Jojo ever since he saw the bloody mass of his parents' bodies. He had shouted before, but never a scream of true terror. It was the first time he was ever horrified and shocked nearly out of his life this way, and all this because of an image that passed his mind for some fleeting seconds. He could see it vividly, and because of this, was appalled in a way nearly never known to man.

"Brick! Are you okay?"

Bricks yells slowed into a small whine as he forced himself to look above the peachy white knees before him. Sadly, his eyes were not able to foresee what was beneath her skirt, but her concerned face gave him comfort a bit. He however, still could not say anything.

"Brick…" two seconds passed as her face dropped at his silence, but she soon lit up again. "You know… you didn't have to tell the whole mansion that cake icing on the floor tasted bad…"

A silence passed again and a medium-sized tumbleweed seemed to roll by.

"Um… er, okay, I'm terrible with jokes," she sighed. "Ever since I told my sisters about that hilarious grammatical error my Science teacher made, I've been trying to improve… but seriously, it was funny! You see, he said 'Eucharis wanted to lay down' instead of 'Eucharis wanted to _lie _down', because he's already violated the grammatical rule stated in page twenty-eight of our English book! Ahahahahahahaha!! That was hysterical!! I burst out laughing and…" she paused and her face dropped. "…and I was the only one laughing. Sigh. I know, I know, I'll stop."

Brick smiled a teensy weensy, itty-bitty bit. She had let the nails over her right hand dig over her bottom lip, and despite this, looked angelic and once more, innocent. Her mind was free of malicious thoughts, no deceit, thievery, dishonesty, blood, murder…

_Blood… murder… _Brick's lip quivered once more, and Blossom spotted this out. Lightly, she touched his chin, causing him to flinch abruptly. She was smiling calmly at his tense figure, though it didn't reach her eyes.

"It's okay, Brick. It's okay…"

Brick looked down at his hands and felt his eyes well up with tears that he didn't want to show the girl before him, the one he loved, and at that moment, knew that no one else would have been able to crawl into his dark, mossy shell, softly take his hand, and pull him out. She didn't have to break his shell. She just had to get inside and draw him out with a loving touch.

_Brick had emotion. _

Yes, he had it. He had what his agents always urged him to have more of. It was what he hadn't showed ever since he turned seven. It was what he never seemed to have.

_But he had it. _

And he decided, that if such a wonderful person could inflict the nearly impossible upon him, why would he want to kill her? He didn't want to kill her. He never did. And once more, _he wouldn't. _In fact, he didn't want to kill any of them. He didn't want to kill Butch or Boomer, the two he seemed to have a special connection with. He didn't want to kill Buttercup, the one who made him smile a bit whenever she was with Butch. He didn't want to kill Bubbles, either, she was always smooth and in a good mood. It was almost contagious, especially to Boomer.

And what of the mission? What would he about that? He had never taken his mind off it.

"Blossom…"

Blossom's attention sparked when her bodyguard called her by her first name. "Yes?"

He looked up slowly, a smile on his face accompanying his half-opened eyes.

"My mission… is to protect you. I will devote my life to you completely."

Blossom's curiosity on finding out what Brick had called her name for was replaced with sheer happiness that paled her pink orbs.

"Thank you."

**--BRICK'S POV--**

I couldn't go to sleep. I rarely do, anyway. But tonight, though I'm allowed to sleep at least eight hours, I couldn't. I couldn't go to sleep, and I had the urge to out and…take a walk? Most probably, to Blossom's room. I'm supposed to guard her after all. I don't know why they think night is not anymore safer than day. That's mostly where all the men in black come out. I did. Though the bastard that jumped out the glasshouse didn't. He used black to cover his whole body. It could've been any other color. It could've been green. But maybe that wasn't his color.

So, what am I going to do? I'm still here, you know, lying on the bed with my palms behind my head. It was really soft, even _too _soft, compared to my Styrofoam pillow. However, it still retained the simple design of the board they call a 'bed'. Well, I've been through harder and softer things…

Still, I don't think I've been through anything like Butch's snoring. His bed is above my bunk, and though I can't see his whole position, am already very sure that his arms are outstretched, blanket sprawled behind him, one leg straight, the other bent out. His snore kind of sounds like a foghorn sounding and a goose honking at Boss' 'singing'. How does Boomer put up with this noise? \:-/

I soundlessly crawled out of bed to check. It was the first time curiosity ever hit me since a long time ago. And as I stood over Boomer's bed, I saw a most eye-blinking sight.

He was hugging his pillow with his left arm and legs. His right thumb was busy in his slightly drooling, upturned mouth, and his sky-blue sheets were tucked about him. The reason he was sleeping so soundly was because of the fuzzy whitish-blue earmuffs that were tangled in his messy blonde hair. I can imagine he got that from Bubbles.

Well, that's enough for me now. Without a single flicker of facial feature, I walked out the door. I was already used to dark places, you should know from all the years of experience I've had. So without a single stumble in the mansion I've known a lot better, I went up the spiral staircase, down the hall, to Blossom's room…

Where a dark figure standing beyond it stood.

--

**Annoying A/N: **I guess you might want to murder me, huh? Well, it wasn't my fault. THIS IS EXAM WEEK, so you had better thank me for being able to type in such a crushing hour! Second, Internet was gone when I finished. Luck isn't on our side. Third, I'VE GOT A SCYTHE AND YOUR SPEAR, so you can't poke my back with red spots again!

Aurora-Powerpunk, I'm sorry I wasn't able to fulfill your wish on having the whole story in Brick's POV. It's just kind of hard for me to do that when there are things that the main character couldn't have seen, like Blossom baking and spilling the cake. I wouldn't have been able to put things in her view if it was all in Brick's. Then if there's an ambush… what would I do? So now, do you think I should stop shifting the POVs and put it all in Normal? Your choice.


	6. Chapter 6

**Annoying but Sincere A/N; thank me!! : **After this fairly long chapter got deleted, I moped and cried. I expect you people to give me credit!! Also, Blossom's trying to be a bit more in character, so be ready for major personality swings. Chapter is dedicated to MewCuxie12, the one who persuaded me.

**Chapter 6: **

Not a split second passed before I dug my heels onto the slightly fuzzy floor and hightailed after him. He skidded toward the opposite direction, and jumped down the spiral staircase he was able to reach. I let out a puff in my effort. This guy was faster than anyone or anything I had ever encountered, but I wasn't set on giving up.

Who knows what he could've done… All I was sure of was that I wouldn't forgive him.

We were now in what I recognized as the corridor. Darkness was closing in, but that never had stopped me before. My red fiery eyes stayed glued onto the back of his head. And for the first time, I lost my instinct when he did a most unexpected thing.

He turned his head, and though his mouth was covered, I knew from his glistening eyes that he had smirked. It was a smirk that puzzled me. It showed his confidence, like he knew exactly what was going to happen, and that worrying about it would make it worse.

Before I knew it, my right leg had collided onto the edge of something I did not sense in the darkness. There was a crash and I was soon facing down on the floor, fallen particles rained down over my back. The next thing I saw was the back of the enemy disappearing into the darkness, all the while a siren was sounding, and the lights flickered on. Bubbles, Buttercup and the professor suddenly ran up in front of me, and from the corner of my eye I could see Blossom, Butch and Boomer trudging on from behind. All were in their nightclothes. My heart sank as the expressions on their faces become apparent as they stood before me. I had barely been in this place for one day!

"Brick!" Blossom cried. My embarrassment upon her seeing me in this mess did not help matters. Why did she have to speak? "What are you doing here?"

"And why did you have to wake us all up?" Buttercup groaned, scratching her back like a caveman. Dark purple rimmed her green eyes.

"Indeed," said Mr. Utonium shrewdly. I couldn't tell if he looked more threatening under his robes. And from the looks of those legs, he could have been wearing frighteningly short pajamas or a nightgown. "Can you explain setting off the siren, awakening us all in the dead of the night, and once more breaking property?"

My eyes trailed toward what I had broken. It was a short coffee table, and the glass that was set upon it was half broken. Bits of blue and white glass gave me the evidence of a vase, as well as a few green leaves and stems. There were also pink petals crushed all around me. The kind of plant it used to be was undistinguishable.

As I was picking myself up, I heard a soft gasp that had escaped Bubbles' lips. I looked at her, the curlers in her hair now drooping and ruined from the run. I had always thought her curls were natural, so it surprised me to see proof that they weren't. The curlers clung limply onto her sunshine yellow hair. Late night excavations were definitely not good for her.

"Blossom…" she said, "aren't those…?" she pointed queasily at the mess at my feet. The curious expression on Blossom's face disappeared and a look of horror replaced it when she followed her young sister's finger. The only sound heard was the shifting of Blossom's cherry lips as she whispered incomprehensible things that sounded very much like "mimblewimble".

Her mouth opened suddenly, and she said quietly, "I—well—this…" another silence of two seconds formed. Finally, her long red hair slapped her back as she turned sharply and ran pell-mell down the hall.

"Blossom!" Bubbles cried, but Boomer stopped her. I just stared after her, confused. Why was she hurt? It was just a plant—

A hand seized my collar and I was soon face to face with a green eyed female. "What did you think you were doing?" she shouted angrily. "That plant was special to Blossom, and you just had to go ruin what she worked hard for, didn't you?! Do you know how much I—"

"Buttercup, please let go of Mr. Brick," her father cut in with a calm yet sharp voice. She gave me a glare and almost looked like she would spit on me as she let go. I did not mind. I had been through stuff like this. I indifferently began to adjust my collar, thinking about what she had said.

"_That plant was special to Blossom!" _

Was it? And had I destroyed it? Had I destroyed what was special to the person that was special to me? Did I hurt her?

Does she hate me?

My eyes hollowed, but I quickly shook away the painful thought. Her forgiveness was one of the best features she had possessed. Surely she wouldn't get too upset about a plant. Right?

But if it was that special to her…

"Now," said the professor, "I feel that we need to take matters to a more serious place. We shall migrate to my office. The bodyguards will meet me in my office. A maid will be ordered to take care of this mess. And to those who it may concern"—he looked at his two daughters—"can come with us."

"W-what about Blossom?" Bubbles said weakly.

"You have full permission to comfort her if you do not wish to see what matters will be taken into order at my office," he told her. It seemed to me that the professor was talking like he was to a client rather than to his daughter. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you?"

Bubbles shook her head, and one curler struggling to hang on to her locks gave up and fell to the floor, rolling where it was. Only I was intent enough to notice this fact. "I'll go to Blossom," said Bubbles.

"Do you wish for your bodyguard to be with you?"

"No," she said, but quickly added, "I mean—not at least in the bedroom—since you want us to be safe he can walk us—I mean me, there." She looked at her bodyguard as if searching for more words, but he just squeezed her hand. Her father did not seem to notice this.

"Very well." He smiled somewhat at her willing to be safe. He most probably thought he was teaching his daughters well, but in my opinion, he was not. He turned to his green-eyed daughter to ask her the same question.

"I'm going with you," she declared firmly, her arms crossed. She shot me a look at the end of her sentence.

"Well then," the professor immediately changed the subject. "All should be well."

--

"Now, Mr. John," Mr. Utonium began. I had nearly forgotten that was what I said my last name was. "Care to explain your behavior earlier?"

"Sir," I began, and thankfully a skill that I had not forgotten geared into work, coming up with a story in just a single second, "I needed to go to the bathroom, got lost, and spotted a man in black at the corridor. I chased him sir, and in the dark I had tripped onto the coffee table."

The professor nodded, frowning. I might have been lying (and I truly was) but it was difficult of him to not trust me. All signs of deceit were left out; I had been doing it for so long that I might have been able to defeat lie detectors.

"Brick, come closer," he began and I obeyed. "How were you able to find your way before you bumped into the coffee table?"

Mr. Utonium is a very observant person.

"Moonlight, sir."

There was a short silence, and I took the time to glance at Boomer and Brick. I hoped that they found the story convincing. It was bad enough to lie in front of them. Would they look at me with scorn, with questioning eyes, or with disappointment in finding I had slipped out of a tight spot?

But no. They looked at me with eyes saying that they believed me. They even spotted my gaze and smiled in my direction. Butch gave me a thumbs-up, but their expressions melted away like a faucet turned off, and I turned to Buttercup. Surely, she wouldn't be happy—

And she wasn't. But not because I had slipped escaped her father's 'wrath'. Her arms were crossed, yes, but as she glanced somewhat in my direction, her eyes couldn't have been clearer.

"_I believe you." _

Before I could puzzle over this, a shuffle of movement was heard, and my head shot to the professor, who was nodding again. He opened his mouth again to ask another question. I knew immediately that he would ask why I just had not checked the door in my room for the bathroom. I made up my mind to say that I thought it was a locked storage room, when the door burst open and a tall woman with bouncy hair hobbled into the room.

Her lady bits were apparent, and I saw that Butch had an interested glint in his eye as he watched them bounce up and down. Her curly hair was more fake-looking than Bubbles', and was so thick that they covered nearly her whole face. She had on a tight red suit, and as she pushed past me and slapped her hands on Mr. Utoniums' desk, he was taken aback at the huge chest shoved into his face. "Oh Mr. Utonium!" she cried.

There was a slightly annoyed look on his face, the same look that Boomer and Buttercup were now wearing. "What _is _it, Ms. Bellum?" he wanted to know, frowning.

"Professor, I heard about what happened!" she grabbed his hand and pressed it to her bosom, making his face turn slightly puce. "And I'm so sorry about the broken property! So terrible that someone had gotten through the tight security system!!"

That last sentence cracked into me. That was right. The girls were always complaining about the high security and the fact that it was more than enough with three bodyguards. How could he have gotten in?

It seemed that the professor had noticed this too. He leaned away from the lady in front of him and turned to face us.

"You four may leave now."

--

I don't remember exactly how I had left the office, not strolling quietly in the corridor, head bowed, hands in pockets. But I remember thinking about it all, never so many questions running through my head before.

_How could Buttercup have believed me? _

_How special was that plant to Blossom?_

_How could that intruder go through the tight security system?_

_Why didn't I sense that coffee table in the dark? Distraction never stopped me before, even when I was caught by it… _

I stopped at that last sentence, and a something shadowed over me. I looked up. A high window was set there, and I could see a gray cloud misplaced in a midst of white, fluffy clouds winding past him. Unlike all the other clouds, it was the most solid one, stubbornly unmoving even as the other clouds nudge it and took wisps out of its sides. It refused to change, to keep pressing forward. One word popped onto my head.

_Motionless…_

_**E**__motionless…_

And that was it. I knew what was making me lose my abilities. And I knew what would raise them back to their full limit. I knew what to do to fully protect the one I loved.

_--_

_The boy stood where he was, his bright red eyes suddenly fogging to a dull crimson, and his eyelids sliding down halfway. He stood there silently, an eerie silence as the emotions were sucked out of him. He decided that, to protect the one he loved, he had to throw away the gift she gave that had made him fall in love with her in the first place. Alas and alack, the lone creature missing the security of his strong shell went back inside._

_And then, the boy started to move from his spot. But the cloud and its shadow never left him. _

_--_

I stood in front of the white door, its swirly pattern familiar. I saw the sign bearing the words, "_Blossom's Room" _and once more the small letters below it commanding the visitor to knock before entering. I somehow felt more uncaring than before, and shamelessly knocked on the door.

"Ah… wait—"

Shuffling movements softer than before insured, before she gave up and said I could come in. Without a word to verify my identity, I opened the door and walked in. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at her knees. The blanket she usually wore on her head had fallen smoothly down the waterfall of red and now lay around her figure. I didn't recognize the beauty that always accompanied her free hair this time, but nevertheless made my way to sit on the bed, too.

"I'm sorry about last night."

"It's all right," she replied. "I'm fine with it. Besides, if you hadn't been there, who knows what that guy could have done?"

I nodded in agreement. So Buttercup had been in here before me. "It's terrible that he had gone through the security system," I commented.

"I know. I guess daddy wasn't overreacting after all." She looked up at the ceiling. "But I still wish he would tell us why he's getting so many enemies now."

"We'll soon know." That was the last sentence before I gave her an ending greeting. I shut the door behind me, knowing little of the fact that Blossom may have inherited her father's observance. My stone heart was, at that time, set on finding out how the intruder had gone through. Did he use a method I had used before?

Finally reaching the ground floor, I felt a vibration in my pocket, telling me that boss was going to speak to me through the walkie-talkie and that I needed to go somewhere private to chat in peace. I made my way immediately to the bodyguard's room, and knew immediately that I had made a mistake when I opened the door. There, standing with arms crossed, were Boomer and Butch looking at me like they had been waiting for some time.

Those two were very professional. I usually sense people's presence from rooms.

"Brick," Boomer stepped forward. "We need to talk to you."


	7. Chapter 7

**Recap:** _I made my way immediately to the bodyguard's room, and knew immediately that I had made a mistake when I opened the door. There, standing with arms crossed, were Boomer and Butch looking at me like they had been waiting for some time.  
Those two were very professional. I usually sense people's presence from rooms.  
"Brick," Boomer stepped forward. "We need to talk to you."_

**Chapter 7: **

I waited for his fellow bodyguard to continue, showing slight anxiety in his facial expression. He was, inside, actually very eager for answers to his own personal questions and for the sake of business-oriented matters; his mission.

"We wanted to tell you… that we believe you. And that we can explain that." He suddenly offered the redhead a smile, to which the latter weakly returned. "Bubbles told us about what happened to you and Blossom at the garden, and we're taking precautions too. Buttercup knows about it, as well, so you don't need to walk around worrying about her beating you up after the… fiasco last night." Brick remembered that very well, and the blond once again smiled to ease this fact. Brick, however, was no longer affected about whatever that girl thought about him.

Well, at least sort of.

A punch aimed at his shoulder all of a sudden, and as Brick was moved to the side a bit, he saw that it was Butch that had playfully struck him. "Bet you're glad that that girl's off your back, huh?"

"Butch, shut your trap and _you_ get off his back, why don't you?" Boomer, arms crossed, eyes rolled, and a new argument once more erupted between the two. Brick watched the two in idle amusement before realizing the abandonment of his mission and excusing himself to go to the bathroom.

"Sir?" he said. "Speak, your servant is listening." he propped up the line once more, which was actually the boss' mockery of the line Samuel used in the Bible. It was one of his—not very humorous in Brick's 'undistinguished' opinion—jokes that he usually bought to the hall for everyone who forced themselves to laugh. This was mentioned before.

"Brick." The owner of the name mentioned could tell that this voice was strained. "I've gathered quite a bit of information about some people that might have attacked the Utonium grounds." The talker paused to suppress a cough that the listener clearly heard, then went on. "They're not one of us, apparently, and it would seem that they have had a bit of an idea of our plans. However, it looks that they are unaware of who are actually their rivals, and despite their—I hate to use the word—ingenuity, they are willing to do anything reckless. Well, that's all."

"Yes, sir." Brick put the walkie-talkie beside the sink, lightly recalling what he had just heard. The boss wasn't very clear, nor had he given any specific or necessary information. What he did was give brief details about what the 'opponents' were like, not who they could possibly be, what their 'battle style' might be like, or any clue that would help Brick aim and strike. Did he expect Brick to come up with something to go against this foe? That was what he usually did, no matter how difficult is sounded even to him, so Brick wasn't surprised.

Hm, the boss must've been troubled, stressed maybe. Brick knew it in his voice. Could it be that this corporation was actually being challenged? The boss was always haughty, confident…

_Foe. _It was strange to think they actually had a rival. The assassination corp. usually succeeded, and always thought of those who weren't on their side 'victims', or 'idiots-who-were-all-happy-go-lucky-but-didn't-know-a-thing.

After taking this in, Brick left the room, thinking about what he could do to find out how he could find out how their adversary had gotten in. He also had to think about how he could get everyone in one place to go in for the kill, to get everyone else out to be witnesses of murder that he could easily camouflage into death, and get the legal documents to be the new owner of the home.

Hmm… there were many ways to get the documents, of course. Falseness was an option he used and got away with a couple of times before. It was all too easy.

Hands in pockets, he strolled calmly near the entrance where he had first caught a glimpse of the inside of the mansion. The guards he had spotted before were no longer there, and he guessed they wouldn't be back. Why he was so positive of this he wasn't sure, but he pushed this out of his mind like he always did. This was clearly an advantage.

Going about blankly, he spotted a maid dusting the wall in a lonely corner. Her face was blank, she was just doing her job, but Brick could tell that she wouldn't have minded quitting right then and there due to the hazardous events that struck the Utonium household. He knew that she was one of the very few who had stayed. Obviously, the number of workers lessened more and more since the danger started.

And that maid he just passed would definitely be gone by the end of the week.

Blossom wasn't in her room. There were no sounds of a girl shuffling the pillows at her bed, and the door was locked. Brick continued down the hall, trying not to be worried about her. Soon he came to a varnished wood door with squiggly lines as an admirable design, and the voice of Blossom came from behind it. It sounded as if she were reciting. He knocked on the door, and a man in a yellow vest and brown slacks answered. He had small, circle spectacles over his eyes, and brown hair.

Brick saw that he was alone there with Blossom, looked back at the man, and thought, _What a nerd._

It was one of his rare teenage-jerk thoughts.

"Um, um, sir, what is it that you needed to require? I mean—what do you want? Wait—who—"

"It's okay, Mr. Wilkins, it's Brick." Blossom got up, smoothed her dress over her knees, and walked over to them. "He's my bodyguard. Brick, what are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to know what you were doing," he answered bleakly, trying not to sound too anxious.

"Oh, well this is my tutor, Mr. Anthony Wilkins." She tilted her head, looking at Brick vacantly. "Since father has been protective of us since the day we were born… really." She smiled faintly.

"Yes, and we really need to return to our lesson, Blossom," the tutor interjected, his hand moving to her lower back. "I was going to correct you on the emotion the author intended in the declamation you had been reciting, wasn't I—?"

"May I ask permission to join you?" Brick said before the man had a chance to shut the door.

Wilkins gave him a stern look. "Maybe you should keep watch over the door, _bodyguard,_" he said.

"Oh no," said Blossom. "I'd like him to come in."

Her tutor heaved a sigh. "If that is what you wish, Ms. Utonium, but I strongly suggest against your recommendation…" Wilkins continued to talk until they settled back to their sitting position on the floor. They sat across each other, a glass coffee table where a green plant in a pot was set in front of them, and Brick sitting on the pink couch they chose not to sit on behind Wilkins, who went on complicatedly about the declamation, shooting Brick looks here and there, as if waiting for him to look awed or to scrunch up his face in perplexity at the deep vocabulary he was using.

The tutor, however, had to meet disappointment. Brick rather disliked this man and did not want to satisfy him by being normal. He looked on blankly, unimpressed. Blossom might have sensed the tension between the two, but chose to listen intently to her tutor as she always did. Very soon Blossom was asked to recite the composition again, and she did it perfectly. Brick stared, finally impressed for the first time. He could do such things, disguised as a speaker once, but Blossom was truly different. Better than him, maybe?

The tutor praised her after her finish, and throughout the whole lesson, she listened, was praised, and even corrected the flustered tutor at times. What Brick could clearly make out at the end of the whole lesson was that Blossom was unbelievably smart, it was almost unfair. Kind, beautiful, and smart. We're talking about perfection here.

But he guessed she deserved it.

When the tutor gathered up his things, he gave Brick a sort of a glare before stumbling off the other way. He really was a loser. The two redheads then went to deliver Blossom's textbooks to her room. Brick somehow wanted to start a conversation. Looking up, he saw that the sky was darkening. The day was leaving fast.

"That tutor of yours," he said, "do you like him?"

He wasn't sure whether to seem curious or not. Even inside he wasn't sure.

"Oh, Mr. Wilkins." The girl beside him let out a light chuckle. "He's ditzy at times, and he most certainly isn't the perfect tutor. You've seen me correct him, right? Well, he's an okay person, that's what I can positively say. You can get used to him, though he's difficult to understand. I guess his excessive knowledge gets him rather scatterbrained a bit."

Brick might be able to agree with that last part.

A thick cloud hung in the sky over them, casting a dark shadow. Blossom noticed this, but was unable to think of anything to say about it. Soon the entire corridor was bathed in deep dimness.

"Brick—are you still there?" Her voice was somewhat quaky. She was obviously nervous. Brick knew she was the type who wasn't fond of the dark.

"Yeah, I am." He didn't get closer to her, his voice was flat, and he didn't continue the conversation. To Blossom the area seemed even colder due to his new attitude. She walked nearer to him. But what she didn't know was that he was actually scrutinizing the darkness they were now in, his ruby eyes roving nimbly over their surroundings similar to a camera switching to night vision, only in a shade of red.

He was determined not to fail this time.

"Hey, Brick, it must be night now," said Blossom struggling to conceal the uneasiness in her voice. "Or I wonder if it's going to rain?"

Brick did not answer. Blossom looked up at his faceless form in the darkness. "Uh…Brick? Brick?"

She was beginning to get very jumpy now. They walked on quietly for sometime, Blossom trying to get his attention from time to time, but with fail. All of a sudden, Brick spotted a red figure dash in the darkness, the kind of speed only professional assassins were used to.

"BLOSSOM, GET DOWN!"

"Wha—?!" But Brick slammed her on the ground before she could even finish the one syllable word. In the darkness a fight between Brick and the unknown intruder began, and Blossom realized it after sometime. She buried her head in her arms, trying to keep as still as possible so the prowler would not be able to realize she was a living thing. She prayed for Brick's safety and his safety alone.

Her bodyguard darted toward the figure, in a body suit as far as Brick could see, and the oppressor, as nimble as he, averted the attack and prepared for another lunge. At their nearest contact, which wasn't much, Brick found that his competitor was almost as thin as himself; almost from what he could tell from an arm. The opponent, however, was taller than Brick, but they were so far equal in speed and flexibility. Brick had to use mind if he wanted to stop the attacker.

Quicker than light, Brick spotted a small table which he thrust at the foe, and was delighted upon hearing that it had found his mark. Brick then heard a small grunt. He knew that the opponent had fallen to the ground, and Brick prepared to finish him off as he stood over the bruised enemy.

But Brick was soon staring in horror, for the oppressor had fallen right near Blossom, who he threw over his shoulder in a quick motion and pushed swiftly past him.

"_BRIIIIIICK!!!_"

The latter picked himself up from the heavy piece of furniture that the adversary pushed at him, then struggled to get up when the lights flickered on. The professor ran to him.

"Brick, I heard a scream that I was unable to make out—it's awfully dark this afternoon—what happened?" Mr. Utonium's jaw dropped at the mess that surrounded Brick.

One eye closed, Brick wiped off the blood that threatened to drip off his chin and brusquely replied in a quick motion, "Mr. Utonium, your daughter has been kidnapped and I am going after the bastard who did it."

And with that, Brick got up despite Mr. Utonium's cries of more understanding and sprinted like a bullet in the direction of the kidnapper just as the daughters, their bodyguards and the annoying Ms. Bellum arrived.

"Professor! Professor! What was that?" she cried as she helped man whose name she repeated twice.

His eyes narrowed. "Brick Johns is doing his job, and we're going to help him."

-------------------------------------

**Annoying A/N: **I'm sooooooooo sorry for the long update, and I had to bash all your heads with a short chapter! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! GAHH DON'T KILL ME I AM NOT JUST APLOLOGIZING JUST BECAUSE YOU ALL HAVE THE SUPERIOR ABILITIES TO COMMIT MURDER NOOOOO GET THAT SPEAR AWAY FROM ME!!!

**Threatening A/N: **Anyway, review. I'm seriously losing the urge to update because of the few reviews. It's school life. Please tell me what you think to let me know you're alive, or else I'll die. I'm serious. This story will die too.


	8. Chapter 8

**Recap: **_"Mr. Utonium, your daughter has been kidnapped and I am going after the bastard who did it."  
And with that, Brick got up despite Mr. Utonium's cries of more understanding and sprinted like a bullet in the direction of the kidnapper just as the daughters, their bodyguards and the annoying Ms. Bellum arrived.  
"Professor! Professor! What was that?" she cried as she helped man whose name she repeated twice.  
His eyes narrowed. "Brick Johns is doing his job, and we're going to help him."_

**Chapter 8:**

"W-what?" Buttercup scurried after her fast moving father. Bubbles was not far behind, but Ms. Bellum on the other hand had fallen to the ground due to the professor's abrupt escape from her and she was currently picking herself up, curses under her breath. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Mr. Utonium went on, and soon they had reached a common tan plastic door. Its sign read "Storage Room". His daughters immediately recognized it, and wondered why they were there. They started to inquire almost instantly, but the recipient gave unsatisfactory responses.

"P-professor!" Ms. Bellum huffed into sight. She was unnoticed.

Mr. Utonium placed his right palm flat on the wall beside the door. He then removed it, and all feel silent when the spot his hand was before started to glow light blue, then spreading around the door in a robotic pattern. The door, instead of swinging open, _slid _to the right, revealing a bronze door that slid to the left, and then a silver door that disappeared upwards.

It was obviously a secret, secure place.

As if gesturing to them to follow him, the professor stepped into the lab and his daughters looked about them in awe. They used to think they knew all of what was to be seen in the house, and now seeing the jaw-dropping sight around them, they realized how wrong they were. How very wrong. Even Ms. Bellum (still very unnoticed) who always thought something was amazing when the professor pointed it out, now looked in silence, her bushy redheaded head moving slowly this way and that. One could almost see the strange, wide smile that was growing on her face through her thick hair.

Snapping back to reality, the girls hurried after their father in order to not get lost. He sat himself on a swiveling chair before a wall absolutely covered with screens and the table in front of him filled with buttons, levers and charts nailed and boarded with glass.

"With this, my girls," he said, "we might be able to keep track of that boy."

The wind alone brushing the sweat from his forehead, Brick stayed exactly on the trail of the black car wherein Blossom was loaded into. Following it and keeping out of sight was an easy task, but his heart pounded like it never did on missions before. His ribcage was in pain, and as soon as he swerved into an alley when the back car lights flicked on, he took the opportunity to breathe heavily.

It was the first time he had panted in years.

As soon as it was safe, Brick sped off again. He averted cars and found it somewhat harder when cars came into view, but it wasn't that difficult, even as the car kept taking over.

But alas! Speeding traffic was on in the most unexpected time and to make matters worse, it began to rain. More black cars dizzied him, and with the fogging rain, clouded mind and pounding heart, he started to grow helpless; a child crying in the rain. He wasn;t a man-child anymore right at that moment.

"Brick!"

A familiar voice called him and it seemed like a light was glittering in front of his dazed eyes. When his eyes came into focus in front of him, he saw Ms. Keane stepping out of a blood-red vehicle, reaching out to him. "Come over here!"

Numb, he rushed over to her car dripping wet and uncomfortable when he got onto the passenger's seat. She patted him with a towel and the car started to abruptly move. The heater eased the feeling in his chest and his head. He soon had enough strength to ask a question. "M-miss Keane, what…?"

"You're chasing after that black car with the redhead, right?" she interrupted, taking a left turn. "Don't you worry. Get dry. It's in view."

He couldn't help but gape. "How did you know?"

"Trust me." The serious and determined look on her face directed to the windscreen faded when she turned to give him a small yet incredibly affectionate smile. "I… I owe you my life, Brick, and I'm going to help you."

He didn't seem to find the words to reply to these strangely comforting words. After a long while, Ms. Keane just chuckled all of a sudden. "I have to say, Brick," she said, smiling, "I never really did see you that way before. So hopeless and desperate, then dazed and lightheaded with confusion. Really, I'd have to say it's rather… cute, you know. Childish. Oh, not immature, but childlike. Yeah, that's it." She smiled again.

Brick was once again blank, looking at her numbly. Never had he felt this kind of care, even from Mojo. It was almost like having a mother again, and he had completely forgotten that lost, happy feeling long ago.

-

"Are you sure you want to come along?" Brick asked again as he climbed out of the car. He didn't want to bring Ms. Keane, who had gotten closer to him during the car ride, to be brought into the danger.

"Brick." She frowned. "I'm not going to leave you."

He sighed in exasperation. _I'm not going to leave you. _He hated that line! His mother said it. His brothers said it. Mojo said it. He could never forget the few meaningful words in his life, though they had betrayed him and stabbed his heart. They had all left him.

"This is different." He argued. "All you people think that the person you thought meant a lot to you would be worth the danger until you actually face it and discover that meaningful person isn't that meaningful at all! Why can't some people say something that seemed true and be absolutely sure of it? Why do they never take in mind that the person they say it to would take them seriously, and that they would be wounded and scarred if they realize how meaningless it actually was? Then they would just be a pale, black-hearted monster that could fall of the cliff of life any second…" he exhaled. "…like what happened to me."

"Brick—"

"No! No, mom—" All of a sudden he stopped, and took a step back from the young raven-haired woman in front of him. She smiled innocently.

"Brick, it's all right—"

"No! N-no… it's not." And with that, he ran away from her, into the hideout, into the danger he'd never known, and into the place where his loved one was being kept captive.

-----------------

"It would seem that the area Brick is on is a rather secured place." The professor scratched his chin and nodded at the screen. "The signal is weakening."

"How did you put the tracker on him?" Buttercup wanted to know.

"It was yesterday when he came to my office," her father replied. He then chuckled. "It would seem even the great Brick wasn't able to detect its presence."

"Nice. It didn't even break in the rain," Bubbles commented, filling the professor with pride.

"I made it," he reminded them, not noticing his green daughter's eyes roll. "Now, let's shift to camera-mode." He punched a button, typed in a code and entered it. Immediately a color screen came into view, pelted with raindrops. He was able to swerve it into different views, and they saw the fast-receding sight of a concerned looking Ms. Keane standing by her car with hands clasped. His daughters blinked at the unfamiliar character, but the flat screen would have been wet with coffee if Mr. Utonium was drinking some. His eyes bulged, and he and Ms. Bellum abruptly leaned forward and cried, "WHAT?" at the same time.

"W-wait," he said, snapping back to reality as he recalled her voice blending with his. He swerved around to look at Ms. Bellum. "You know her?"

"N-no," she answered. "I was just shocked that my—I mean Mr. Brick would have such an… undistinguished woman as an ally in his mission." She added an innocent look at the end of her dialogue, which no one could see anyway. So what he did was give her a suspicious look and turn back in his chair, staring intently at the screen hoping to see more of the young woman but seeing none.

The girls looked back and forth between them, and when she thought it was safe Buttercup asked, "So… who was that woman anyway?"

Her father sighed, turning to his knees. "Another time, girls. It's rather complicated now that times have changed, and so has my relationship with her. And… perhaps my feelings for her have too."

-----------------

Darkness. All darkness. A baby's cry. Fading light. Closed eyes. The smell of cake. A wide smile. Scrunched up eyes. Eyes opening slightly.

Eyes widening.

Blossom's head lifted, and she found herself on a hard metal chair with her hands trapped onto the arms of the chair's arms. Silver-colored tape was wrapped around her mouth and her ankles were suffering the same fate as her wrists, but tied to the bottom of the silver chair. She felt her ribbon all crumply and limp, and immediately started to feel irritable.

Her head wasn't tied back, so she took this opportunity to look about her. Some people would've expected themselves to have their wrists tied behind a wooden chair with a dirty gag tied around their mouth in a small empty room, but when they handcuffed both her wrists and ankles, then covering her mouth with some sort of gag wet with a certain liquid that caused her unconsciousness, she knew they would lock her up through formal means.

And formal it was.

She was in some sort of lab. Gigantic tubes with gel-like substances imprisoning dark figures she couldn't decipher were all around her. Blossom had the uneasy feeling that the next one would be her.

All of a sudden, a man dressed in a white lab coat and black pants and shoes stepped out from behind one of the tubes. Blossom observed that the approaching stranger was tall and had brown hair. His chin gave the slightest traces of a beard.

"Hello, Blossom." He strolled near her and she gave him one of her most hateful squints. He chuckled at her angry expression and started to speak again. "I am Dr. Ned Saragossa," he said, "and I am about to explain who, or what you are, how Brick is particularly connected to you, and that Miss Sarah Bellum has a rather big part in all of this."

**WEEWOOWEEWOOWEEWOO! : **My faithful fans! Those who read Powerpuff Love Triangle please be informed that I have writer's block and won't be updating well in that story. You can give me ideas by including your suggestions in your The Will to Kill review.  
Chapter 6 (TWK) is revised. Why didn't anyone notice Mr. Utonium said "Mr. Butch" instead of "Mr. Brick"?!

WHAT IS MS. KEANE'S FIRST NAME? WIKIPEDIA DOESN'T KNOW; BUT WIKIPEDIA ALWAYS KNOWS! D: In this story she is Janie Kate Keane.


	9. Chapter 9

**Recap: **_She was in some sort of lab. Gigantic tubes with gel-like substances imprisoning dark figures she couldn't decipher were all around her. Blossom had the uneasy feeling that the next one would be her.  
All of a sudden, a man dressed in a white lab coat and black pants and shoes stepped out from behind one of the tubes. Blossom observed that the approaching stranger was tall and had brown hair. His chin gave the slightest traces of a beard.  
"Hello, Blossom." He strolled near her and she gave him one of her most hateful squints. He chuckled at her angry expression and started to speak again. "I am Dr. Ned Saragossa," he said, "and I am about to explain who, or what you are, how Brick is particularly connected to you, and that Miss Sarah Bellum has a rather big part in all of this."_

**Chapter 9: **

Blossom maintained her cold stare, but she could not deny to herself the fact that she was interested in what Dr. Saragossa had to say. Brick? Connected to her? And Ms. Bellum having a part at all seemed rather unbelievable. She was almost never noticed…

Before Blossom could disappear into her thoughts, the sound of the leg of a stool scraping against the tiled floor echoed in the room and the man seated himself upon it in front of the redhead. His knees were far apart and his hands clutched the side of the seat between his thighs, leaning forward to look at the captured girl with a somewhat amused expression.

"For starters," he began, "you are not the daughter of Professor John Utonium."

_What?_ Blossom could not believe what she was hearing. She would have gawked if it wasn't for the silver tape that stuck her two pink lips together.

Saragossa chuckled, seeing her wide-eyed expression. "Shall we continue? Anyway, you are actually a creation. You have never been born, just created. Only Ms. Bellum is aware of this fact. She is my first creation, second you, and lastly, Brick. All of you had been almost entirely useless to me. Sara ran off with you as you were a baby, having fallen in 'love' with Mr. Utonium. Humph. I had connections with him too, over-the-table connections to be exact. He knows nothing of your true identities, and your adoption was a sneaky under the table plan thought up of by your mother. Yes, mother."

Blossom was given a few seconds to process these facts. Ms. Bellum, her mother? Ms. Bellum and she hardly got the chance to interact throughout the years!

And yet Blossom always wanted to have a mother. The sisters sometimes conversed the subject among themselves, but they never really knew anything. And Blossom, adopted? Her mother was Ms. Bellum, a woman who never really showed any love towards her, and her father wasn't the one who truly gave her any love. And so who was her father? This bearded man staring at her with an amused, somehow wicked smile?

And… the thought of herself not being born, but _created_. She wasn't a human. She was… a creation.

He continued. "Mr. Utonium never knew Ms. Bellum was part of it. She became a seemingly shallow-minded secretary for him and sometimes took care of his children. She cared for you, but despised his real daughters. The girls who do not share your blood. Well, obviously… since they share the blood of the woman Mr. Utonium loves…"

Blossom felt like crying at this point, but did not want to seem pathetic in front of this man she by now began to hate. Pale, cheerful Bubbles, someone who was not good under the sun but loved flowers and animals and rainbows; feisty, brave-hearted Buttercup, who loved to do daring things and say what is on her mind… these were the girls who were with her throughout life. They were not a true family. And the woman they always talked about, their mother, was not someone they shared.

"Brick was already created around the time, but before I could have Sara aware of his existence she was already off with you… he was born with the body of a child around seven years. He was an unstable creation and while I sent him including others to look for you he was suddenly lost…" Saragossa closed his eyes for some seconds and opened them again. "Years later of tracking the three of you down, I found out a few details of your new lives. Brick got himself in an orphanage, and like you, was adopted by a couple who already had a pair of children of their own… humph, seems the boy really did find happiness… it was very troublesome."

Blossom squeezed her eyes and slowly opened them again, this time her gaze fixed on her knees, absorbing this information. That would mean Brick was her sibling… and consequently what happened to his happy family?

"So… I sent out assassin spies to kill this family. I reminded them not to hurt Brick only once. After all, Brick had abilities that exceeded a normal human's. He ran off instead of getting captured, and was taken in by a different organization… they had high security, but I began to suspect the fact that they were always on renovation. Tsk. I found out it was an assassination agency, and I happened to know the boss of the whole thing… I believe he knew about you, not as dimwitted as he seems." Saragossa growled before going on. "And so he sent Brick… to assasinate you."

_What?_

_

* * *

_Her flats sloshing in the wet ground, Ms. Keane sneaked over the grounds of the building. A hard look was on her face as she got nearer and nearer to the entrance.

_There is just no way I am letting Brick in there alone, _she thought as she backed up against a wall. _He has been like for far too long, and now that I can see it's getting more personal, he needs help. _Keane looked guardedly around, scanning with her big eyes any sign of a camera. She spotted one, but was relaxed at the reassurance that the camera had broken down in the rain. _Who knew high-security areas like this had cameras that broke down in the rain? _

Keane walked in at the entrance, pulling her wet raincoat over her arm. Brick might have easily sneaked in, but Ms. Keane had to try another approach. As she used to work at an assassination agency, she knew that the building's disguise would heartily accept customers—before taking their property and killing them, of course.

"Hello gentlemen!" she called to the uniformed men standing dutifully at a counter. "Your sign was blurred by the rain. If I might be able to know of the sort of business led here I might be able to have a proposal confirmed. How about it?"

The two glanced briefly at each other. "All well, ma'am," one answered. "But preparations still have to be organized and our boss will need to know of the existence of this proposal. How about staying for the night?"

When she agreed, the second uniformed man pulled out a record notebook and collected her bank number and contact details. Subsequently, a third man was called, and after hushed dialogue was whispered into his ear, the man welcomed Ms. Keane and led her up the stairs.

* * *

Brick knew where she was. With his desire so strong, he has never been surer. He raced up the wall, leaving a tall trail of smoke behind him, blatantly mocking gravity and leaving the body of a guard below him in his wake.

There was just something about her that turned him into some kind of tracker, as if she were part of him.

And an important part she was.

Bangs, dripping wet, frantically slapping his cheeks, Brick clasped a firm hold of the rail at the top of the steel wall. He crouched like a frog at the top of that fairly narrow, rounded handrail and gave stern looks to them men that now surrounded him.

"Come with us," said one man, his hands in an obvious position to grab him. "We know something that will make you happy."

But the redheaded boy only offered him a swift kick to the face, and prepared himself as those around him formed into a circle.

_Duck, duck… goose. _

* * *

Sensing the need for no further conversation, the girls stayed quiet and gave each other a mutual glance before turning back to the screen. Buttercup's mouth dropped open as the laws of physics were betrayed. "Whoa."

"Father!" cried Bubbles moments later as the tracker the professor planted on Brick closed in with a gang of guards. "How is watching this helping? Brick is being crushed out there—"

But with a mighty swoop and evidently cutting off the blonde girl, the screen soared above the men who looked dumbly up at him, only to have their faces crushed as he practically danced on top of their heads, knocking each one down.

"We are waiting for the right time," said Mr. Utonium, taking their gapes as an opportunity to speak.

"Thank you very much, dear," Ms. Keane gave a genuine-looking smile to the uniformed man when they stopped outside a varnished cherry wood door. He opened it, but she refused to be let inside. I suppose the floor will turn over and out as soon as I step onto it, she thought to herself as she explained how she wanted to look around for a bit.

"You certainly are very lucky to be living in such a beautiful building such as this," said Ms. Keane, thinking bitterly of how she used to sit at a shabby table with stained cement walls and rats in every corner.

She walked away a bit and as soon as they had vanished from each other, she ran down the first staircase that came into view. Casually greeting a few guards who had never seen her before with long sentences such as, "Inspector with a business proposal coming through!" that almost completely explained why she was there, Ms. Keane was able to peacefully find her way around. But soon, she found herself in a deserted place away from all the cherry wood doors, chandeliers, and glamour.

All she had to do was go to a few doors, avoid a few people, hide in the rights places and do the right things that usually opened the security of an agency like this—and the one she worked in. Passwords, appearances… it would seem that this former lowly secretary was underestimated. Still, she had a long way to go besides just entering this gray place with steel walls and plenty of dark areas.

The building had a whole different section that would quite wow the corporation she used to work in. It was much bigger than the grand hotel she was in earlier.

And as she looked up into the great ceiling, she saw several banisters that reached even _farther_ than the eye could see.

And many were swarming with pacing guards.

Ducking into a shadow with her head carefully looking about her, she was able to make her way up the staircase.

And up.

And up.

It wasn't long before Keane spotted guards on the ground. The number of bodies seemed to heighten as she climbed up faster—and then she had finally arrived.

"_Brick!"_

"W-what?" Blood out of the nose of the man Brick had just knocked out flew into the air and down again as the body fell. Brick had whirled around and seen the brunette running toward him, skipping over bodies.

At first she seemed like a golden nugget in an array of mud as she grabbed a hug out of him. But it wasn't long before an angry look seared across his face and he pushed her away. "You shouldn't be here," he growled. "Leave me alone!"

"No, I will not," she argued. "You underestimate me, Brick, but I am capable. I was persistent enough to disobey you and follow you into the danger, and I care about you! Besides, if you still believe it's dangerous for me, how do you think I got here?!"

He was unable to answer. How she was able to find him was indeed unimaginable.

But as they stared at each other in seriousness and perhaps in affection, they were trapped.

* * *

He finally finished. Blossom's pupils had shrunk so small that they were almost the size of two apple seeds. Smiling, the doctor leaned in forward and ripped out the duct tape. She winced and he leaned back again. "So… any questions?"

"I-I don't believe you!" she cried in a shrill voice that echoed in the lab. "B-Brick would never kill my father—or any of us!"

"Heh." Saragossa pulled his chair closer to Blossom's. "Gotten pretty cozy with Brick, haven't you?"

The girl flushed a bright shade of red. Seeing as he and his minions were spying on the Utonium family, they must have seen how close they had gotten—and as she remembered the kiss, Blossom blushed deeper. She could feel her neck grow red and hot. She started to feel very embarrassed in this state. "He was sent to protect me," she finally was able to let out.

Saragossa turned his head to the ceiling, leaning back comfortably in his chair. He then turned back to Blossom, a mischievous grin set on his face.

"One look, a little peek, and perhaps a kiss… you could be pursuing your own death."

_Sbam. _

Light showed in the dark room before closing. A group of men carried Keane and Brick inside. "Sir, we were able to find No. 32 prowling around outside. This woman was with him." He gestured toward Keane, who _mmph_ing wrathfully.

"Ah… yet another example of what I just said. It's really very better to mind your own business," he said to Blossom, then to the men, he said, "Very good. I'm glad you used the specially invented securers. And thank you, as well, for bringing in Ms. Kate Keane."

"Sir." They ignored the fact they did not know her name in the first place and saluted.

"Brick!" Blossom cried, forgetting all she had listened to in the delight of seeing him.

"Quite a reunion eh?" Saragossa smirked. "Men, conduct a chair for No. 32 next to No. 31."

One of the men gave another salute and marched dutifully over to a control panel somewhere in the corner. A chair identical to Blossom's rose up from the ground beside her, and, faithful to orders, the men hauled Brick up, who moved about furiously.

* * *

Mr. Utonium jumped up from his chair. He whirled around to face the girls, who were watching all this as if they were witnessing an action movie.

"Girls," he said, "it's about time we act."

**A/N: **That was an action-y chapter. Hope it was satisfactory!


	10. Chapter 10

**Grateful A/N:** Everyone, thank you so much for your reviews! They encouraged me to start this chapter immediately, and I've also reached my 30+ number of reviews goal; a height I've never reached before! You were all still so nice to me even when I forgot to add the bars in the last chapter… X( If you were confused, please check it out again. It's revised. I'll try to put this chapter in Brick's POV. There'll be a few dramatic flashbacks, prepare yourselves for them!

**Chapter 10:**

"Poor boy."

At the words, I looked up; my flinching stopped. There was something about the voice that seemed familiar to me. My eyes rose to his face, and I saw two half-lidded eyes that seemed to chuckle. The color was a rich shade of brown, and his mouth, surrounded by a short beard, was turned up in a smile.

I knew this man, that's one thing I was positive of, though I couldn't exactly put a finger on it. And, judging the way my eyebrows pushed my red eyes down to a frown, I was sure of another thing.

I hated him.

"Aw… Brick, do you still remember your papa?" He gently tore of the paper that was stuck over my mouth, and though I knew it hurt, the hard frown on my face did not waver. This man did not intimidate me, but I wanted urgently to know what he was talking about. He did not say more, however. Instead he stepped back, and the men were peacefully able to place me on the chair. Blossom gave me a worried glance, and though I hated to tear my gaze away from the man, I was unable to resist looking back at her.

"Brick…" she said softly, her large pink eyes filled with concern.

"Blossom, don't worry," I told her in gruff whisper, deciding not to remove my frown. "I'm going to get you out of here."

"Well, you came a little later then I thought," the man started to speak, pacing in front of us. "I was already able to tell Blossom everything. Hm. Well, I'll give you a brief summary. Me, Dr. Ned Saragossa. You, Blossom, and Ms. Sara Bellum, my creations. Sara ran off with Blossom to have Mr. Utonium adopt her. You, then created and sent after them but got brain damage and adopted. Me, killed your parents—"

"WHAT?!" I jumped in my seat, making the machineries rattle, though the chair did not. "YOU killed my parents?!"

This cruel man, my true father? My brain swiftly recalled what he had just said to me, and other incredible facts entered my head. Ms. Bellum being related to me was sickening. I have never met before a more shameless woman (okay, maybe I have), and I have never any man who disgusted me, and who made me loathe him with all that I was.

"Egad. We had better heighten the stability in this place," said Saragossa when the vibrations ceased, eyes closed, two fingers on his forehead. Then, turning back to me he said, "Well, those two gullible beings had some rather annoying beliefs. Can you believe what the blond woman said when one of my men—"

"YOU SICK OLD MAN!" I screamed. I didn't care anymore. He killed them. What if we weren't blood-related? They gave me almost all the love that I actually knew in this world. "I AM GOING TO MURDER YOU AND PULL THE LIVING GUTS OUT OF YOUR—"

"That is quite enough!" I spotted a vein pulsing in his temple, and I knew that I had actually stained his pride when I spoke of killing him. Tch. "Men, please prepare the brainwashing apparatus."

Three men saluted with a dutiful "Sir!" and disappeared into the darkness.

"That machine will brainwash the two of you to become my very own," Saragossa explained smugly. "Obediently, you will follow my orders and become subservient minions." He licked the corner of his lips as if dreaming of that thought. "Ms. Bellum will be back here in no time."

The men once more reappeared with a machine on wheels that shadowed before us. It had several slim metal arms attached to something that they fitted onto Blossom's head like a helmet. "Ah!" she cried.

"Hey let go of her!" I commanded angrily and almost immediately they slammed another one of those helmets onto my own head. I fought to keep my eyes open, but it was near impossible. Soon, a calm expression floated over my face, and I was engulfed in serenity. The last thing I saw mere seconds before my eyes closed completely was the blurred sight of Ms. Keane being carried away by the men, crying out my name.

"Brick! _Brick! BRIIIIIIIICK!_"

_--_

_Darkness. All darkness. A bubble surfacing over a thick liquid. Two, large red orbs slowly opening._

_The first thing I saw before me was a man. He was dressed in a white lab coat; he had rich brown eyes and brown hair. His chin was free of any facial hair, which he scratched as he spoke ponderingly to himself. "Hmm, well, there was Bellum, Blossom… ah, I'll call you Brick." He turned to me. "That's a nice name. I like that."_ _And he smiled. _

_From this wicked man who greeted me with a smile I learned stealth, physical stunts, and loathe so overcoming that it caused me to run away._

_--_

_A couple looked about the room, the children laughing and pulling at their hands. "Come, Mr. and Mrs. Johns!" they cried. One messy-haired boy who called himself Mitch offered them an introduction to all the children in the room. A curly redheaded girl who introduced herself as Princess offered a tour._

_The blonde woman chuckled as they pointed at everyone and everything. The man soon spotted a short redheaded boy with his limp bangs over his nose, by himself in a thin white bed in the corner. The man tapped the shoulder of Mitch, pointing at the boy and asking for his name._

"_Oh, Brick?" Mitch pointed his nose to the sky. "He's been here for like two weeks. He won't talk to anyone."_

"_He's really rude!" Princess put in. "He said my name suited me for a 'spoilt little girl'! All I did was try to be friends with him!"_

_The man tapped his wife's shoulder, whispering into her ear. The two of them, ignoring the little children's protests, walked over to him. "Hello there, young boy," the man said. The voice seemed nice and friendly like a ray of light that didn't blind me, but just lit up the place, and I found myself lifting my head._

_This time the woman spoke. "You must be Brick," she said, and smiled like a flower blooming, her large emerald eyes luminous. _

_I would never forget that smile._

_--_

"_Who are you people?" I demanded writhing and brimming with anger. The figures that had just suddenly marched into my alley and hauled me up did not speak, but instead strengthened their holds on my elbows. "Let me go!" _

"_We are not your enemies," said another man, this time in a blue, buttoned suit. His chubby stomach curved in front of him and his graying hair was held back. A pipe was held between two fingers. "We are here to grant you an agreement. An occupation, I believe, that will give you a better life."_

_My writhing stopped, but I continued to keep my chin low, giving him sharp glares. I breathed heavily. "And what makes you so positive that my accepting this proposal of yours will give me a better life, huh?" _

_I was very suspicious of these people, and coming from a person who did not trust anybody, what I felt had a meaning. And yet this proposal of his made me want to listen more. I was curious. I wanted to know… I wanted to have a better life away from all this pain and anger. An occupation…sounded good._

"_Please." The man smoked from his pipe and a spiral of smoke swirled out as he removed it from his lips and looked up, smirking at me. "Call me boss."_

_--_

_I woke up one day on my Styrofoam bed, feeling as if I had overslept. Restlessly I left the room and bumped into Ms. Keane, who fell, frightened. She looked up at the surprisingly tall stature for a boy around eleven years old, and she immediately got to her knees, gathering papers. "I'm sorry, M-Mr. Brick sir."_

"_Where's Mojo?" I asked flatly._

"_Oh—w-well, he's on a mission right now, Brick," she told me as she got to her feet. _

"_A mission?" I glowered at her. Jojo and I always had missions _together_! Why was today different? Why hadn't boss let him go with me? Did Jojo _not _want me with him?_

"_Y-yes!" she answered, averting her gaze away from me. Suddenly her eye caught sight of a paper in the bundle she held. "Oh yes! I'm sorry I forgot—the boss gave me orders to give this death sentence to you when you had awoken…" she unsteadily held out the paper to me, and I snatched it away from her in a quick motion. _

_Strips of paper fell to the ground as I tore at the envelope to find out the next person destined to die._ _And when I saw the name, the anxious anger on my face was replaced with shock—and understanding in Mojo's strange behavior in earlier missions. _

**_The Death Sentence of Mojo Jojo_**

_--_

_Blossom stared down at the cake, then gently picked out a strawberry from the top of the cake and popped it into her mouth. She turned her head towards her bodyguard, and I looked at her with confusion. What was she doing? Why was she getting so close?_

_I was cornered on the bed. Blossom bent over and her lips softly met mine. My mouth opened as something round came in contact with me, and Blossom pulled away quickly, blushing deeply. Dumbly, I chewed the strawberry that had a bit of cake on it, and then winced slightly._

"_Is it…bad?" she wanted to know, looking hopeful, miserable and in distress. Women have an incredible ability to protrude many different expressions all at the same time. I didn't know what emotion would portray my feelings at the time, so I showed none._

…_If she was talking about the kiss, it wasn't that bad at all, actually._

_--_

_An overwhelming feeling of finalization came over me. I was going farther into the future, and yet I felt as if the happiness would end—_

"_Brick." The blonde woman at my side looked down at my short self. "We're going home. I'm your new mother, and I permit you to call me that." She smiled brightly, and I smiled back at her, her arms comfortably around my shoulders as I sat on her lap. Never since I was born have I felt such happiness._

"_Time to get out of the car, kids!" the jolly man I recognized as my new father opened the car door, and I held on to him as I let him help me out. "A cake is waiting inside the house, and your new brothers are, too," he told me. "You'll be happy to meet them."_

_Brothers? I started to grow uneasy. I didn't get along well with people my age. _ _But when they opened the door, two boys around my height stood beside either side of a table, where a large white, strawberry cake was set. The icing was smeared, but what I really looked at were the jolly faces the two boys gave me. They were friendly, and they were evidently happy to have me there._

"_Brick, these two icing-covered boys are Butch and Boomer Johns."_

_--_

My eyes opened again. But I was in a different place. My brain was unfocused, and I heard my name again.

"Briiiick!"

I got abruptly on my palms, and stared about in the dark room. The first thing I saw was Blossom sitting on my knees, looking worriedly at me. The other people in the dark room consisted of Ms. Keane, the professor, Butch and Boomer—

Wait! I remembered everyone, which obviously meant that the apparatus had obviously not worked. And why was everyone here? The professor must have seen the look on my face, and chuckled. "Brick," he began, "we—"

"Came to save us?" I finished. My mind was clouded, but like it always did, I never needed to think to have my brain gear on its own, predicting near everything a person would say or do next. "I have no idea how you people have gotten here."

"It was easy, really," Butch shrugged. "Especially with all those guys you knocked down for us."

Buttercup rolled her eyes. "At first Butch thought they just fainted at the sight of him."

"Well, how was I supposed to know?" he argued. "You girls weren't supposed to be here in the first place."

"It was a good thing we did!" she shot back. "You wouldn't have gotten through it all."

"Okay, maybe that's true, but—"

"Um," I interrupted, and the attention was drawn to me. "I would like to know where we are and, if you'd be so kind, what we're planning to do?"

Everyone let out a breath, and then the professor sat in front of me, begging his daughter to please sit aside. The room wasn't very big, but it was able to cozily fit in seven people quite comfortably.

"Thanks to Boomer and Butch," Mr. Utonium began, "and some help from the girls, we were able to overthrow the five men that worked for Ned. Yes, I know that fellow scientist, but I never knew he had such evil intentions."

"How did you know about our being here?" I wanted to know, "And also about Dr. Saragossa's true objectives?" I wasn't sure if I quite believed him.

The professor straightened his tie, looking very professional. "There is a tracking device attached to you," he answered, and began to explain everything he knew, making things quite clear. But my ignorance toward the tracking device really actually lowered my pride, though I did not show a single sign on my face.

"So what are we going to do?" I asked bluntly. Mr. Utonium once more straightened his tie, and coughed twice. "Seeing as Dr. Saragossa is still out there, we've actually taken a hiding in this place until there's an opening. Oh—but don't worry. We'll be able to sense if there's someone coming, and we'll be ready for them. When we do escape, I'll be turning him in, and then I'll be keeping Blossom." He smiled down at his adopted daughter, who glowed happily. "So, everyone, please get some rest. Ms. Keane and I will be keeping watch."

"It would seem that you know Ms. Keane," I said flatly. By now the two started to get uncomfortable, but Buttercup demanded a story. "We're all at the edge of our lives here, so why not reveal all the secrets?"

"Please knock on wood when you say things like that, Buttercup," Bubbles sighed.

"Why? Do _you _have any secrets?" Boomer teased. The pigtailed blonde blushed deeply in reply.

Blossom chuckled at them all. "I don't know about you guys," she said, "but I've always wanted to know what was on Brick's mind." I blinked as their heads turned in my direction, apparently sharing the same thought. Before I even thought of speaking, Blossom went on. "While we still had those metallic helmet-like things on our heads," she said, looking down with a faint smile, "I encountered many fond memories that I recognized, including those that I didn't remember." She looked up. "What did _you _see?"

I was silent for a moment, reminiscing. I had witnessed great pain, happiness worth remembering…

Blossom immediately panicked and said I didn't need to if they were that personal. But I just smiled and said, "I saw Dr. Saragossa naming me. I saw when I was accepted into the assassination corp. I saw… my mother. And my brothers, too."

All of a sudden, it snapped back to me. My head shot up and I looked up at Butch and Boomer, who were listening intently to me.

"You… you two are my brothers!"

------------------------------

**A/N:** Tune in next time to see what _Blossom_ saw!


	11. Chapter 11

**Recap:**___All of a sudden, it snapped back to me. My head shot up and I looked up at Butch and Boomer, who were listening intently to me._

"_You… you two are my brothers!"_

**Chapter 11: **

Joy—I was overwhelmed with joy. My mission—my life's mission was fulfilled. Never since Mojo died have I felt this uncontrollable bliss, in a dark, stuffy room filled with eight people hiding from the danger that lurked behind the door.

I saw their large orbs widening, in understanding, in sudden comprehension, and—in delight. We sprang to our knees, the girls tumbling aside and—

_Bang. _

The door slammed open, and instead of the blinding light that would've blanketed the room, a tall figure stood in the doorway, legs well apart. It took me a moment to take her in, but it was her. The one I had just found out meant so little to me, but had so much to do with me. Not just me, but all of us.

It took me another moment to realize that I hated her.

"You!" I lashed out unthinkingly.

She glanced at me in silence before shutting the door, once more enveloping the room in dimness. "So you know," she said slowly, and, strangely, without spite.

"Ms. Bellum, please explain what you are doing here," Mr. Utonium said, frowning. "I do not recall taking you with us."

"I went on my own," she replied, not looking at him. "Hey, make space for me would you?" she said to Ms. Keane in a crude manner so that she could sit near the professor. Keane grimaced at her rudeness, but nevertheless obeyed.

"She's here to listen in on our conversation," I hissed. "We've got to get rid of her. She works for Saragossa!"

"Brick, what in the world are you talking about?" the professor whispered back as Keane and Bellum set their attention to each other. "She has no sign of being involved."

"It will take too long to explain everything," I said, "but she is one of his creations, along with Blossom and I. With Blossom she went away to work for you, and when they found her they must've let her in on so that they could sneak into inner information and take away your property!" I paused for two seconds and lowered my chin, staring up at him. "How else do you think she got here without being attacked?"

That seemed to convince him. "I don't believe this…" he trailed off. I don't blame him. It must be shocking to protect your loved ones from so much and realize that the danger was lurking in your circle. I gave him time before he decided to speak perhaps make up a plan, when a different voice spoke.

"I should've known you wouldn't trust me."

My pupils shrank. She was listening in on our conversation.

Without giving us a chance, she continued, "I ran away because I wanted nothing more to with him. I hated that man," she said with surprising sincerity in her voice. "Yes, they tracked me and tried to make me join them. And yes, they tried to use me…I lied to them to keep the professor safe—"

"You sure are a great actor," Ms. Keane cut in with a scowl. "How do we know you're telling the truth?"

"She's telling the truth," Blossom and I said simultaneously. All glanced at us, and Blossom twiddled her thumbs, getting back to where she formerly sat. "I'm not sure why, but I can tell…"

I nodded. "It's one of our special abilities," I muttered, "It's difficult, I know—I believe it as much as I don't believe it."

"What, what?" Butch blinked. Everyone in the room let out a grunt.

"The bottom line is," Bubbles explained, "is that Ms. Bellum is telling the truth."

"Still," Boomer narrowed his eyes. "How do you plan on helping us?"

"I can be helpful, as they believe I'm on their side," said Ms. Bellum in a concerned voice, determined to help. "But I've been out there, and I've only been narrowly seen getting in here. It's not safe right now, we'll have to wait." All of a sudden, I saw a glimpse of her face for the first time. My eyes widened at her beauty—but it was brief. _(__**A/N:**__Everyone, please search in youtube to see Ms. Sara Bellum's face! The creators of the Powerpuff Girls have finally given us a chance!)_

But what I realized was that no one could act out that expression without meaning it. And at that moment—I believed everything she said.

All of a sudden, she got up, surveying the room from her tall height. "I know there's a secret passage in here, though," she said.

"Whoa, secret passage?" Butch repeated, looking up at her.

"Yes. Why would the organization create a completely useless and small storage room?" she replied, and then her bushy red head, which was examining the room like the rays of a lighthouse, suddenly stopped. "Aha."

Bubbles jumped to the side as the redheaded woman made her towards that area, and a solid steel door disguised a simple wooden planked floor was revealed. "We had better inspect this area and call the rest of you children," she decided.

The professor stood up. "I agree."

"I'm coming too," Keane stated firmly.

Bellum seemed to roll her eyes at her, though I saw nothing. "Fine then. Let's make up a plan." The grownups were just beginning to descend when Blossom let out a cry.

"Wait! Don't you need more protection? There's only three of you."

"Don't worry, Blossom." I caught a glimpse of Bellum's full, cherry lips smiling before she vanished. "They're with me."

_Shut. _

Well, with Bellum, I guess there really was no need to worry. The three of us were blessed, or rather _programmed_ with superhuman abilities. I was a later model, meaning I was more powerful than her, but since it seemed to them that she was on their side, we didn't have much to have concern about.

Or so it seemed.

Silence wafted in the room I now found held more space, and it started to get awkward without a topic to discuss. The girls, I observed, shared now words, but constantly gave each other glances filled with understanding moving their positions now and then. It was then that I noticed neither of my brothers glanced at me, and I suddenly remembered the subject that was present before Ms. Bellum entered the room.

"I don't think it was a coincidence," I said bleakly.

Boomer looked up, giving me a staid gaze. He didn't need to pretend that he didn't understand what I was saying.

Butch, on the other hand, lifted his head, not understanding for only a moment before he spoke. "…I agree. I mean, can you believe it, Brick? When I saw you, I knew you seemed familiar. The look you gave me was familiar, and yet I didn't even try to recognize you… hmm… I guess that shows I was as dense… as a brick, no offense." He gave me a small smile.

Not even Buttercup interfered with his confession of being dense. Instead, Boomer spoke next. "I don't think the case was either of us being dense. After all, it would seem the both of us intentionally blocked out all the bitter _and _sweet memories, haven't we?" he smiled a grin that was mild, his big blue eyes misty.

I felt a small pang. Obviously these two had been in pain. My entering their lives had only brought tragedy to the family. They greeted me with smiles, I gave them wary glances, and only a year had passed before our—or rather _their _parents got killed. I don't know where they were when it happened; it was in a blur as I tried to run from the scene. But it must have been very traumatic for them.

I suddenly regretted ever blurting out that fact. It might have been better if they lived in ignorance, getting on with their lives without me reminding them of their tragedy. I suddenly felt so guilty I didn't even want to know how they got on with their lives after the base of their happiness was destroyed.

"I-I'm really glad we found you, Brick."

My head shot up, my lips parted in disbelief.

"Yeah, man," Butch smiled really, punching me on the shoulder. "We've been looking for you… and now that you're here we're never going to lose you again."

I broke the eye contact and buried my nose in my arms, which were resting on my bent knees. I felt myself starting to be emotional, but I wasn't any good at that, so I never got to feel tears pricking my eyes.

Instead, Butch was the one who wiped his face with his sleeve.

"OH MY GOSH, are you crying?!" Buttercup spoke up for the first time. She and her sisters must have been watching us like we were a family-based channel.

"NO! Sweat just… got in my eyes."

"That's what eyebrows are for, dunderhead…"

"Well, anyway, thank you, boys, for your emotional relevance," Bubbles clapped her hands for attention, a broad smile on her face. "However, little red still needs some spilling to do."

"H-huh?" the redheaded girl looked at her blue clad sister.

"Brick's told us what _he _saw," she pressed, "what about you then?"

Blooms of red splashed the cheeks of the longhaired girl, but mortification was only slightly shown in her eyes. Her lashes faced the ground, and her expression was somewhat grave.

"First," she finally spoke out, "I saw myself being created."

Brick nodded for her to go on, seeing the exact same thing.

"Ms. Bellum was with Dr. Saragossa," she continued, and they were talking about my name. It was surprising, the way he talked, and as the conversation went on I realized upon reliving that memory that he created her to be his wife. She then left the room, and he started talking to himself about having a beautiful redheaded family and surprising Ms. Bellum with yet another child."

Blossom then closed her eyes and paused before talking again. "Next I saw Ms. Bellum having run away from who she referred to herself as the man 'she never loved' and was being ordered by father to take care of his kids. It really is strange, she really did care for me, though it isn't pronounced today…" her voice trailed off, and she hesitated before continuing. "And… I saw… Ms. Keane."

"So she really is related to the professor?" Buttercup broke in anxiously.

Her older sister nodded calmly. "Yes… and it turns out…" she looked up, a glassy look in her eyes, "she's your mother."

"_What?!_" Bubbles cried.

Blossom looked at her Bubbles' expression for a few seconds, looking scared to say the rest. "Yes," she said again. "They're supposed to be a married couple right now but he got separated with her after…" there was a very, very soft gulping sound, "…you were born."

"Me?" the blonde's eyes widened.

"Well, yeah, you see," she answered, "Buttercup inherited the professor's dark hair and green eyes. Your blue eyes are evidently hers. However, your blonde hair… father had no idea where your golden locks came from…" No one spoke, so Blossom went on, "…He accused her for cheating on him, for sleeping with another man. I saw all this because Ms. Bellum was holding me, watching all this from the shadows. Ms. Keane tried to tell the professor she didn't know how this had happened either, but he didn't give her a chance… he told her to get out, so Ms. Keane left without ever getting the chance to hold her second baby."

She gulped softly again. "But the thing is, as I relived all of this… I could tell she wasn't lying."

There was a silence. No one had even a single word to say. Blossom didn't dare look at her sisters, and I didn't blame her. Bubbles' eyes were wide, and she squeezed her hands tightly on her lap, lip quivering, and eyes hollow. She was obviously engulfed in the feeling that it was her fault they got separated. It was easy reading her: she thought that it would be much better if she had never been born.

But it was most certainly not her fault. Finally able to suck up a bit of courage, Blossom looked at her and took her hands. "Bubbles… it's none of our faults."

Buttercup's hand was on her sister's left shoulder, and together, they formed a group hug. As they parted, Boomer touched his ward gently, reassuringly, on the right shoulder. She touched his hand and they shared a smile as she wiped a tear out of her eye.

Even Buttercup seemed to get emotional. Butch approached her, and gave her a very, very light punch. She gave him a smile, looked away, and tried to give him a punch stronger than his own, but not managing it. He chuckled at her.

Blossom, who was sitting and watching all this like I was, turned her gaze to me before getting on her knees and approaching me. "Brick," she said in a low voice, "please remember that it wasn't your fault either."

I knew exactly what she was talking about. Like Bubbles, I seemed to blame myself, thinking that if I had never appeared in the lives of the people I cared about, Butch, Boomer and my foster parents, their lives would be so much better. But everyone was glad with my presence, and after witnessing an example of what I was feeling just then, I felt reassured with her few words.

I smiled faintly. "Thanks."

An unexpected sound surprised us, and the professor emerged from the hidden door. "Come on, kids," he said seriously. "It's time to get a move on."

**-----------------------**

**Annoying A/N: **All right, not much happened, but I seemed really satisfied with this chapter and I realize it would be nice to make it slow. It really seems like a switch, right, Boomer being the dumb one but now smarter than Butch? And Blossom almost as feather-headed as Bubbles? Good thing I caught that and made her more mature. 

Hope ya'll enjoyed!


	12. Chapter 12

**Recap: **_An unexpected sound surprised us, and the professor emerged from the hidden door. "Come on, kids," he said seriously. "It's time to get a move on."_

**Spoiling A/N: **It might seem to be a peaceful little talk, but DON'T YOU DARE think that the action and drama ends here!

**Chapter 12: **

The six of us descended into the door to join the remaining three. The door's shadow blanketed our heads as the professor pulled the hook down, and we began to move forward. Boxes and cobwebs decorated the corners, and, as always, the surroundings were gray.

"So what is the plan exactly?" Buttercup wanted to know as we crept along.

The professor looked behind at us and smiled. "Ms. Bellum was able to convince the guards of our arrival. Force will be held back for a little talk, and Dr. Saragossa is waiting now in the room you two were formerly held in." He looked at Blossom and I, then glanced forward at Ms. Bellum's back.

Somehow I didn't feel reassured with this little plan. Something felt missing, but I said nothing as our path began to ascend. Soon the low ceiling soared and we came to one of the upper floors. The sides held guards in rows, giving us eerie glances as we climbed our way up. It wasn't long before we came to the sliver doors that separated as we stepped in front of it.

And there, sitting on Blossom's vacated chair but not strapped down, was the man that stared at us with narrowed eyes, a hairy chin resting on his palm, and right ankle over his left knee. "Utonium," he muttered. On his lips, the word seemed venomous.

"Saragossa," Mr. Utonium said back. "Are you ready for our little talk?"

"Quite a crowd you've got there." A malicious smile graced the man's lips, and he sat back on the silver seat, looking comfortable and amused. "You just gonna have them stand around like a cluster of clumsy soldiers?"

"Well, since you haven't had the courtesy of preparing seats…"

Six chairs looking the same kind as the ones that held down Blossom and I, rose from behind us.

"Hey!" Butch said loudly. "You think we're dense enough to be strapped down by those things?"

"Sit down, Butch," the professor said, not looking at him. "All of you. I know what I'm doing."

I trusted him, so I took my seat beside Blossom. Thankfully, the straps did not bind us down. Mr. Utonium crossed his legs on the stool in front of Saragossa and Blossom leaned toward me.

"Brick," she said in a hushed voice, "where's Ms. Keane?"

I looked around. Bubbles, Boomer, Buttercup and Butch sat on the chairs to my right, and Ms. Bellum stood a few feet away from the two men. Ms. Keane was nowhere in sight. That must have been the missing feeling I experienced earlier, I realized…

But before my brain could gear up a few theories to explain her absence, the Utonium began to speak. I needed to listen in on their conversation.

"Ned," he began in his deep voice, "I'd like to make a deal with you. I am informed of your creation of Blossom, and I would like to gain custody of her and Brick's freedom. In exchange, I will give to you any amount of money you desire."

"Even a million dollars?"

"Even a million dollars," the professor answered without hesitation.

Dr. Saragossa, who had been leaning his elbows on his thighs, bent back on his chair again, this time both hands on his knee. He continued to smile amusedly. "What about Ms. Bellum then?"

Mr. Utonium's face did not falter, but he paused for a few seconds. This was going to be a hard decision to make. Ms. Bellum had never been a helpful secretary. She had only deceived the professor, but, being the kindhearted man he was, could he bear to surrender her to the man she said she truthfully hated?

Finally, he spoke. "That will be her decision to make."

Ned burst laughing. "Her decision! She was mine in the first place," he cried. I side-glanced at Ms. Bellum. She writhed irritably where she stood. "How about you give her to me, and I give to you your beloved Ms. Kate Keane?"

It was then that I began to understand. Ned took in Ms. Keane as a temporary hostage to ensure that Ms. Bellum and the professor come back with all of us. As expected, he used her to his advantage.

All of a sudden, a frazzled looking guard entered the room. "Sir!" he cried out. "There is an ambush—" But he was cut off. Blood spurted out from the middle of his chest, and his eyes rolled over. His body landed in the ground and the sound of combat boots hitting the floor was heard like stormy weather attacked weak roofs.

The sounds and noises that were heard signified that a fight was going on outside, but six men carrying heavy guns marched into the room. They weren't dressed in the uniforms Saragossa's recruits were wearing, and I seemed to recognize them. They separated into two rows and my eyes widened. I knew this scene. And I knew who was going to walk slowly between the lines carrying a pipe between two fingers.

Boss.

Saragossa jumped up from his seat. "Clyde Browner," he said, frowning deeply.

"Ned Saragossa." He blew a circle of smoke in the air. "Damn, you revealed my true name in front of the kids." He pretended to look pained, then winked at my expression. At first I had looked ashen, but as he walked in through the door it formed into frown.

He moved his gaze to the professor. "Oh, and…hmm, John Utonium wasn't it?"

"What business do you have here, Clyde?" Saragossa demanded. He lifted his chin and looked at Boss with half lidded eyes.

"Oh, not much really," he replied, sucking in the tobacco once more. "I just want my little assassin back."

"He was never yours," Ned argued. He was apparently irate, but made an effort to maintain his cool. "He was mine; you stole him from me! And now that I've got them all back, you come marching in and attempt to claim him!"

"_Yours?_" the professor frowned. "Allow me to remind you that I am offering you a large amount for their freedom!"

Letting go of his composure, Saragossa growled and slammed the button on the table between him and Mr. Utonium. Fortunately, Blossom and I recognized the churning of machinery, and we jumped up. Seeing us, our siblings imitated the action.

"Oh no!" Bubbles cried out. She had gotten out too late. Her right wrist was latched onto the chair's arm.

Cursing, Boomer attempted to destroy the silver binding, but it was near indestructible.

"Get those two!" Boss—or as I will refer to from now on as Browner, commanded. It was evident that he was talking about Blossom and I. The first man threw a punch, but I ducked and kneed him in the gut. A few sly moves and the man in front of me was kicked to the side. The scene I saw behind him made me let out a shout. Two of them had lunged toward Blossom.

Ducking low, I tore through the clusters of chaos. The number of men had risen as the soldiers outside were defeated slowly. Butch and Boomer had joined in the fight, and I had to hop over several limbs that came my way. The distance between Blossom and I seemed to widen, but I was nearly there.

But it was too late.

"Hyaaaaah!" a girlish scream ruffled my hearing, and my red orbs paled.

But Blossom shouldn't have been underestimated.

Her legs were high in the air as she screamed. Her wrists were held back by the surprised man behind her as she kicked her way up and twisted over his head, landing on the ground softly and with a perplexed expression. She blinked a couple of times, and so did I. "Hi, Brick," she said, finding nothing to say.

A grunt sounded behind me, and I let the guy fall to the floor with a crash. "Ned's gettin' away with Keane!" Butch huffed. "Get him!"

I broke into a run almost immediately as soon as the words left his mouth. Several people closed in, but my sight aimed only for one person in the crowd. A few hops above several heads, and Saragossa was right in front of me. I grabbed the back of his collar. "Where do you think you're going?" I asked in monotone.

His head turned mechanically, sweat running down his face. His glasses were slight fogged up, and under his arm he hauled the unconscious body of Ms. Keane. Panting, he held a smile. "You again," he muttered in a deadly voice, but on his wet face he continued to smile like a maniac. It was evident that he had gotten a shock as everything started to slip through his fingers so suddenly, and he looked as if he was now on the brink of keeping sane.

And yet… this expression seemed familiar. I've seen it several times on the pale faces of different people I was just about to… assassinate, but it was as if I had seen this before on _Ned's _face. It was… years ago… I was smaller. Was it when I ran away? Was it when I was just the unmixed ingredients waiting to be born?

That wasn't very important now. Before he got a chance to continue, I gripped his lab coat. "We'll team up, just for now," I told him. "None of us want these guys here, and I'm pretty sure that you'll keep your promise on this matter." My eyes looked up at him, but my lips faced straight ahead.

His facial appearance seemed to fade and desperation was clouded in his green eyes. "Fine," he agreed.

It wasn't as difficult to get the word out to everybody. I instructed Ned to call up his men to hide in secret, and with the special abilities given to me I was able to find Boss—or Browner I should've said, in the chaotic mass of human warmth. Ned was showing reluctance at being ordered around, but I knew he was a good actor, so I assigned him expressly for a certain job…

It took a while but peace and organization started to take place. Suspicions were still on guard, but Browner still complied. Pretty soon, surrounded by men from both agencies, Dr. Saragossa, Mr. Utonium and Clyde Browner sat in a circle-like triangle.

The six of us youngsters sat in front of the seats we were formerly seated upon, but Bubbles stood tautly, one knee bent before the silver chair that latched her wrist down. She continued to receive assuring glances from Boomer while smiling nervously back at him in return, but it was apparent that she was still very uneasy with her current situation. I did not immediately ask for her freedom as I knew that it would be idiotic to mention something not as large as the deal we made. I trusted my senses. Things would come in due time, I was sure, so we all looked on at the men surrounded by the thick, serious aura.

Ned continued to sweat, but his appearance remained calm. He leaned forward, the tips of his fingers touching the finger pads of his other hand. "Gentlemen," he smirked, "This contract is like an auction now isn't it? Only it's an auction announced against my will."

"Your so-called items don't seem to want to stay with you," the professor side-commented through narrowed eyes.

"Nor do you have a particularly good use, or pertinent intention for them," Browner added. His comment was unexpected, especially judging by the sudden, brief reaction that crossed Saragossa's eyes. Looking satisfied, Browner swished his pipe in the air, weaving a thin ribbon of smoke that spiraled higher and faded away at the top.

I glanced briefly at the imprisoned Keane and the suppressed, but anxious looking Bellum whose knuckles trembled; both at the side cloaked in velvet darkness.

I glanced at the worried looking Bubbles—and my youngest brother Boomer who knew very well that his constant, assuring words were uncertain; the tough, durable Buttercup who looked scared and uneasy for the first time.

I glanced at my younger brother who always seemed to find the casual, slipshod part in every situation, but now seemed at loss.

I turned to my side, and glanced at the girl I loved who stared back at me with her big, pink eyes… the one who I'd give everything for, the one who always thought nothing was my fault, but now had no words to say. I wondered if words at that exact moment were even relevant.

Everything was planned, but like in every plot, something unexpected was to happen.

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**Annoying A/N: **Sorry that took so long!! DX I was having a bit of trouble with this chapter because of all the action-y stuff so it comes out somewhat short… I know it's the freaking summer but the Internet's gone wacko and I've got freaking piano lessons… so… sorry again!


	13. Chapter 13

**Recap:**_I turned to my side, and glanced at the girl I loved who stared back at me with her big, pink eyes… the one who I'd give everything for, the one who always thought nothing was my fault, but now had no words to say. I wondered if words at that exact moment were even relevant._

_Everything was planned, but like in every plot, something unexpected was to happen._

**Naggy A/N: **All the characters are gathered in this chapter, which is annoying cause it's difficult keeping everyone's presence.

**Chapter 13:**

"That comment was uncalled for," Saragossa muttered in a low, husky voice that sounded almost pathetic. He avoided his companions' eyes, one gaze of which was unreadable and the other slightly concerned.

Browner bent forward once more, now looking interested. "Well, seeing as I'm the late one in the little get-together, how about we individually announce what we each want? Come on, just a little sentence," he prodded like a teacher when he saw the two other men looking reluctant. "Maybe then I'll understand why John Utonium is here."

But before the professor could emit words from his opened mouth, Saragossa spat out, "All I want is what is rightfully mine." His voice was constricted. "Bellum, Blossom and Brick."

Browner laughed, and the rest flinched at his humor. "How adorable!" he said. "Your creations are a trio of redheads—all starting with the letter B." He continued to laugh at the last statement, and Saragossa's expression kept sinking until Brick almost pitied him. He almost seemed to melt into the background, a dazed look in his face which he sunk into his hands that made the rest almost sure that he was not to speak again until after several years.

"I don't understand what is so funny about that," Mr. Utonium interrupted coldly. Coming to Saragossa's rescue must have been a motive, but all of a sudden it struck Brick that the professor's blood daughters' names started with the letter B as well. At this, he glanced at the others, and in that glance he and his brothers simultaneously came to the same realization. Their names began with letter B as well (xD). Butch almost laughed out loud.

"Ah, yes, yes," Browner grinned. "Aye, well, how about you, Mr. Utonium?"

"I'm here to pay a large amount for the freedom of both Blossom and Brick," the professor said, glowering at him.

"The way you address him interests me," Browner said, scratching his pipe-burned fingers over his rough beard. "You seem very familiar."

"He is her personal bodyguard as well as a precious member of the Utonium household."

The statement touched Brick, but only for a few seconds, for there was not a single trace of affection in either his tone or expression. The professor looked at Browner with deep suspicion, keeping his words as taut and brief as possible. Brick knew that his head was practically exploding with questions, and the professor struggled to keep his composure as he squinted at Browner, who continued to look amused but did not let the joke out as of yet.

"What about you?" Mr. Utonium finally choked out.

"I?" Browner said. "I'm pretty sure you heard earlier. I want Brick. Best assassin I've ever had under me… Wonderful actor, murdered ruthlessly, prowled like a wolf, almost impossible to read… a killing connoisseur, if I do say so myself." Paused, smirked at the professor and went, "Not very good at security, are you? You hired an assassin, who I ordered to kill you and whoever got in the way, to protect your daughter…"

Each word made the professor look paler and angrier, and made Brick's stomach churn with guilt. The boy's red head fell forward, his bangs hanging in front of his face like a curtain and Blossom lifted hers to look at him, but he took no notice.

_I really was a monster back then._

"The only reason why he did all those was because you ruined the life he had before and the only bliss that ever came out of it! He stopped working for you long before!" cried the strongest voice in the room, lifting all their heads. "And so did I!"

Keane stood up, having finally conquered the gag that suppressed her ability to speak. She was instantly held back by an army of Saragossa's minions, earlier distracted by the drama, who covered her like a human cage. She writhed to keep her face in sight.

Browner immediately wiped from his face the look of sheer surprise at her appearance. "So you're here," he muttered. "And it would seem that Brick has been disobeying me since he left you alive." He practically mumbled the last sentence, but it was left unmissed by Brick, as he had hearing above the average human's and the professor, who seemed to get stronger at the words.

Before he could speak however, he was once more interrupted, and this time it was a shrill woman's voice, frenetic with wrath.

"_You should have died!_"

Bellum tore apart the minions that blocked her way, and jabbed a nail into Keane's chest. "_You! _You… you… _you always get in the way!_" She grabbed a fistful of her blouse and threw her onto the ground with great force. Keane was too shocked to react as the rest of them, and was in pain at Bellum's sudden violent actions as well. The curly-haired redhead tugged her upwards again and started to slap her on both cheeks. "_Why… do… you… keep… coming… back?!_"

The last smack sent her backwards, and the cronies scurried apart, not wanting to get in the way of Bellum's fury. Weakly, Keane attempted to lift her head, meeting the almost maniacal angry face of Bellum—revealed only to her current enemy. She stepped slowly toward her. "_Why… _why must you always get in the way of my happiness?!" She paused for breath, her voice becoming strained, and spoke again. "All I wanted… I _wanted… _the professor, I…"

"Sara."

Her bushy-haired head whipped around. It was Mr. Utonium's calm but hard voice that broke into the tenseness of the situation, caught everyone's attention, and paused Brick in his stance, who was ready to interfere. Bellum was speechless and so was everyone else.

"That's _enough._" His voice was professional and firm. "There is nothing between Ms. Keane and I."

"Like hell there is!" Keane protested, getting to her feet. She must've regained the strength in her legs. "You _left _me!"

"You _cheated _on me," the professor said flatly, straining to keep his face straight.

"I did _not_!" she screamed. "I've never lied a day in my life!" She panted twice and the professor tried to restrain the show by saying, "Keane, calm down—" but she quickly went on.

"You refused to listen to me. You threw me out like there was never any trust between us, and all of a sudden you act like a polite stranger just going by—"

"_Kate_, not here—"

"_The two of us would be together in love right now, right this second if—_"

"If poor, frail little Bubbles didn't come out looking the way she had," Bellum said in a soft voice, smiling sinisterly at Keane. She continued to lower her voice, oblivious to all ears listening and to the silence that suddenly fell. "And if I hadn't injected that into your womb while I was nursing you, forcing Bubbles' body to produce an abnormally small amount of keratin"—her voice began to get louder and her smile spread across her face like a Cheshire cat's—"not giving her sparkling, deep blue eyes, nor dark thick strands, or peach colored skin, but a pale, pale complexion, thin, wispy fair hair, and big, pale hollow eyes with a glassy look, as if she's dead—a dead doll, a mannequin—"

Bubbles let out a high pitched gasp, her free hand flying to her open lips. Tears welled up in her eyes, and Boomer immediately grabbed her shoulders, whispering with his mouth dangerously close to her ear, beating her sisters who were about to spring to the rescue. Bubbles broke down, clutching her mouth to suppress her sobs and Boomer's whispers intensified, his warm breath like a mist in the walls of her ear.

"_What_?"

As all this was happening to Bubbles, Keane took intimidating steps toward her. "So… it… was… your… entire… fault?"

Catching sight of the situation she was in, Bellum could only step back. All around her, there were only glares of her enemies. "_Your _fault," Keane said, drawing in a higher volume, "that I was separated from my husband, my children, why I was given such misery and—!"

"Guards, take her away. Restrain Bellum, too."

The voice was hoarse and Saragossa had to lift his head to be heard. Bellum, the woman he created to love, so fierce in her affection towards another man, must have broken him.

"H-hey!" Keane cried in protest. "You can't—you mustn't—not when the truth is finally—J-j-j-John!"

The professor had leapt to his feet. "Kate!"

But she was already being dragged away and jerked through the round opening in the room by Saragossa's cronies, two metal doors meeting in the middle to close their disappearance.

"Sit _down, _Mr. Utonium," Saragossa said tiredly, and narrowed his eyes at him. "Don't forget about the deal we're making."

"Yes—I know, but—but that isn't fair. Keeping hostages. That's—that's practically threatening." When Saragossa didn't reply, and instead just stared boredly at the professor leaning his head against his knuckles, legs crossed, Mr. Utonium fell silent and took his seat.

"Y-You won't do anything to her, will you?" he asked.

"What could I do?" Saragossa challenged him, and there was a brief pause.

In the midst of all this, Browner burst into laughter. Everyone looked at him, in the middle of his hysterical fits of mirth, and it took a while before his laughs died down. Rubbing a tear out of his eye, he slapped Saragossa on the back. "You've finally risen, Ned, but you talk like a zombie! My dear man, live a little! Where've you been in all of this?" and he chuckled a little.

Without waiting for much of a reaction Browner moved on to the professor. "Quite a show, wasn't it, that?" he asked him. "What a man you must be, had two women cat fighting so openly in front of us!" He looked away a bit as he said this. "I've never been more entertained since I watched my last best assassin murder his mentor."

Brick cringed, but this was left unnoticed.

"Moving on, how much do we offer for these things we want?"

"I can pay the both of you any amount of money you desire!" the professor announced, his head whipping around to look at the two of them.

"Ms. Keane for my creations," Saragossa said, looking darkly at Mr. Utonium, and at Browner, said, "Brick is mine, but I will rethink his standing at your company."

Browner scratched his chin thoughtfully. "You know what I want, and what I'm willing to offer?"

"That's what we're waiting for," Butch muttered under his breath.

"I want every single person in this room…"

He began with this sentence, waving his smoking pipe around as a demonstrative gesture.

"Besides myself and everyone working for me…"

Eyebrows were raised, some leaned forward in anticipation.

"That includes Brick…"

Eyebrows were furrowed, suspicions were raised.

"…dead."

As if on cue, his men rushed forward at the word, electricity shot up at the metal entrance and a whole army of his minions poured inside. Outside, once could briefly catch sight of Saragossa's uniformed cronies unconscious, or perhaps even dead with the blood that surrounded their heads.

There was a great flurry of activity but an even thicker aura of bewilderment that overcame our heroes, too shocked to move and too hollow-eyed to see clearly. However, the only one who had the ability to even see a thing as he was being dragged away was Brick, as he watched Browner with wild eyes take a gun out of the inside of his suit, jam it into Saragossa's chest, making him spurt out blood, and pull the trigger.

The gunshot bursting through blood and flesh caught the attention of our characters, enveloping them in slow motion. Saragossa fell over his chair, incidentally falling against the button that finally freed Bubbles. Blossom caught her consciousness quickly and darted for Brick, who was weakened at the sight he just witnessed, but the men that grabbed him were also having a hard time to find tranquility in the commotion.

He did not realize when or how but fire rose up at the room, and everyone gushed out of the exit, and at the same time chasing after Brick, who was somewhere at the front of the crowd.

In the fire set room, only Bellum and the dying Saragossa were left, surrounded by a ring of fire. She kneeled next to him, looking down at him, her dark face carefully blank.

"All I wanted was a family, Bellum," Saragossa whispered.

"So do I, Ned," Bellum said softly, closing her eyes, slowly getting up. "So do I."

And she turned, and disappeared in the flames.

**Annoying A/N: **Okay, so that has got to be one of my most rushed chapters because I am indeed rushing it for the story is nearing its end. I don't know what's up with my writing style right now, I've been slacking off. I need some help :(. And also, that fifth paragraph has got to be the most random ever but I couldn't help it… xD


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